[Verse 1: O.C.]
Slim, young brother with a whole lot of ammo
Voice has bass ‘cause I’m far from soprano
Youngin do the track as I dip it and I dive
Did a song called “Fudge Pudge” with Organized
Stand on my own, holding my own fort. You could say
“Micnastic” ‘cause, to me, it’s like a sport
When I drill her, fill up her ditch like mud caught her
You ought to watch your step—there might be a landmine. Find
You’re not looking while I’m hooking up booby trap
Set off the tripwire, detonating rap for the
Rough rat. Better leave a trail of bread crumbs or be
Lost for days ‘cause my zone is like a maze
If you get blasted, your whereabout you won’t hear about
Emcees, please, your skills don’t level out
Devil I’m not, rebel I am, pebbles are
Tossed into a stream to be part of a dam
I’m not a ragamuffin rhymer, I’m a rugged with a
Hyper tone. Step into the O-Zone

[Hook: O.C.] (x4)
Step into the O-Zone, step into the O-Zone
Step into the O-Zone (Step into the O-Zone)

[Verse 2: O.C.]
Trying to
Trap me like Bigfoot? Come, son. I know the woods
Better than you. A Serch party’ll find you done
Your body lacerated, ass and native skin
Burned to the bone, so all they find is a skeleton
I left a diagram, a footprint. There’s a fair chance
One rolls, the tricky one’s the yellow print
Be wise to make a right decision ‘cause a right
Or left turn just might lead to your incision
Follow me into the Bermuda, be blown to bits
Sure hits you like a head inside of tuba
Pace is about an hour behind me. You don’t know
What’s going on inside of my mind, you can’t define me
Deranged maniac, trapped nickel psychopath
One of the fattest n***as you hear on the phonograph
I’m an icon to amateur, like a python
Fucking with me is like the Battle of Saigon
Vietnamese n***as wheeze from the poisoned breeze
Suckers choke, dropping down to their knees
Freeze up your nervous system as I brings a
Hyper tone. Step into the O-Zone
[Hook: O.C.] (x4)
Step into the O-Zone, step into the O-Zone
Step into the O-Zone (Step into the O-Zone)

[Verse 3: O.C.]
You’re now
On the last leg of the Serch. Some are pushing
No-watts, summer-valley hertz, so I diverted and I
Double-packed. Now I’m behind your asses
I bet y’all amateurs never even took classes
On the Green Beret who’s taught how to survive
All I need is some rations, ropes, and a knife
The rest of my resources come from nature
Food, shelter, and a nearby geyser
But let me continue on the routine hunt of mine
Instead of me being the prey before, I’m now
The predator, seeking—like a hawk—the souls of
Men cloned, the picture identified by the molders of the streets
I’ve only just begun to fight
O-Zone laying laws beyond what I recite
The woods are misty, spark is getting sicker
I’m picking you off one at a time like a sticker
Plus I carry a liquor canteen, so I’ll
Stay warm inside while I hunt you like animals
Force of arms a poetical bomb
Opposition at this event turn out until dawn, get
Defeated, conquered, missing in action
The wounded belly make it back to Fort Jackson
My conquest will address that I got shit
Sewn when you and your crew step into the O-Zone
[Hook: O.C.] (x4)
Step into the O-Zone, step into the O-Zone
Step into the O-Zone (Step into the O-Zone)