It happened in season 2, episode 8. "Dundee." The lights dimmed, a beat dropped that sounded suspiciously like a generic GarageBand loop, and Kendall Roy stepped onto the stage wearing a custom "Logan 50" jersey. What followed was ninety seconds of the most excruciating, strangely catchy, and culturally significant television of the last decade. L to the O G. It wasn't just a song. It was a cry for help wrapped in a cringeworthy tribute to a billionaire patriarch.
Honestly, we’re still talking about it years later because it perfectly captured the essence of Succession. It wasn't just a joke. It was a character study.
The Cringe That Conquered the Internet
Most people watch the "L to the O G" performance through their fingers. Jeremy Strong, who played Kendall, famously approached the scene with his trademark "Method" intensity. He didn't play it for laughs. That’s the secret sauce. If Kendall had winked at the audience or signaled that he knew he was being ridiculous, the scene would have died. Instead, he leaned in. He committed to the flow. He became the "OG."
Nicholas Britell, the show's brilliant composer, is the man behind the music. He’s the same guy who wrote the haunting, Emmy-winning main theme. For "L to the O G," Britell had to thread a needle. The track had to be technically "good" enough that a delusional billionaire’s son would think it was a hit, but bad enough to make everyone at the party—and at home—want to crawl into a hole.
It’s a specific kind of second-hand embarrassment. You’ve probably felt it at a wedding when a Best Man tries to freestyle. But this was different. This was power, wealth, and deep-seated trauma manifesting as a hip-hop tribute.
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Why the Lyrics Actually Matter
If you look past the "shout out to my boy Squiggle" line—which, let’s be real, is legendary—the lyrics are a roadmap of Kendall’s relationship with Logan. "A-1 ratings, golden boy, Paolo L001, he’s the toy." It’s nonsense, but it’s also a desperate attempt to validate his father’s legacy.
Kendall is trying to bridge the gap between his corporate reality and the "cool" persona he desperately wants to project. He’s a guy who listens to Beastie Boys in the back of a town car to psych himself up for a board meeting. "L to the O G" is the logical, albeit horrifying, conclusion of that personality trait.
The Squiggle Factor
Who is Squiggle? We never see him. We never hear from him again. But Squiggle represents Kendall's tenuous connection to a world outside the Waystar Royco ivory tower. By mentioning Squiggle, Kendall is claiming authenticity he doesn't possess. It’s the ultimate "how do you do, fellow kids" moment, but funded by a private equity firm.
The Production Behind the Madness
Adam McKay and Jesse Armstrong, the minds behind the show, knew they needed something that felt authentic to Kendall's specific brand of delusion. Britell told Vulture in an interview that the goal was "earnestness." They recorded the track in a way that felt like a high-end demo.
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Jeremy Strong actually learned the rap and performed it live. There’s no lip-syncing here. The reaction shots from the cast—Shiv’s horrified smirk, Roman’s baffled silence, and Logan’s stony, unreadable face—were largely genuine. They were watching a co-worker give 110% to a rap about "the OG."
- The Jersey: A custom piece that symbolized Kendall's attempt to "team up" with a father who didn't want him on the roster.
- The Beat: Classic boom-bap style, deliberately dated to make it feel like Kendall's idea of "cool" was stuck in the late 90s.
- The Setting: A lavish celebration in Scotland, emphasizing the disconnect between the Roy family's roots and their current absurdity.
The Cultural Afterlife
"L to the O G" didn't just stay on the screen. It migrated to TikTok, Spotify, and meme culture. It became a shorthand for corporate cringe. When we see a CEO trying to act "down" with the employees or a tech bro using slang that doesn't fit, we think of Kendall Roy.
It’s also a masterclass in how to use music in prestige TV. Usually, music is background. Here, it was the plot. The rap was a turning point. It showed that Kendall had finally given up on trying to be a serious successor and was now just performing for an audience of one: his father. And Logan's reaction? A mix of pity and disgust. It was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship before the season 2 finale betrayal.
The song is actually on Spotify. People listen to it unironically. That’s the weirdest part. It’s a parody that became a real song, which then became a cultural touchstone.
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What We Can Learn From Kendall’s Flow
If you’re ever tempted to do something this bold, maybe don't. Or, do it with so much confidence that people can't tell if you're joking. Kendall’s failure wasn't the rap itself; it was the fact that he was doing it for a man who would never love him back.
The "L to the O G" moment reminds us that money can buy a stage, a custom jersey, and a professional beat, but it can’t buy rhythm or self-awareness. It’s the ultimate satire of the 1%. They have everything, yet they still want to be "street." They want the struggle without the actual struggle.
How to Handle Your Own "L to the O G" Moment
We’ve all had them. Maybe not on a stage in front of hundreds of people, but we've all overstepped. We’ve all tried too hard.
- Check the room. If your audience looks like Logan Roy, stop talking.
- Commit or quit. The only reason this worked as television is because Jeremy Strong didn't blink. If you're going to be cringe, be the cringiest version of yourself.
- Know your brand. Kendall is a suit. When he tries to be a rapper, the friction creates the fire (and the embarrassment).
- Own the aftermath. Kendall didn't apologize for the rap. He moved on to his next disaster.
Ultimately, "L to the O G" remains the peak of Succession's ability to make us laugh and cry at the same time. It’s a tragedy disguised as a comedy. It’s a son rapping for a father who is already planning his professional execution. It’s perfect television.
To truly understand the impact, watch the scene again but focus only on the background characters. The sheer confusion in the eyes of the Scottish extras is the most honest reaction captured on film. They aren't in on the joke. To them, it's just a crazy American billionaire losing his mind. And honestly? They’re right.