Note: This analysis contains spoilers for Seasons 1-4 of Succession.

“My boy Squiggle cooked this up—check it.”

— Kendall Roy

These lines precede the most painful moment in television history: Kendall Roy’s cringe-worthy performance of the rap “L to the OG”. Apparently intended to honor his father, it succeeds only in humiliating them both, while also revealing a surprisingly great deal about these characters and the themes most relevant to Succession.

Ostensibly written by the artist Squiggle, “L to the OG” was actually written by composer Nicholas Britell for the eighth episode of season two of Succession (2019-2023), a comedic tragedy that follows the eponymous “succession” of aging media mogul Logan Roy. Only a few minutes long, “L to the OG” is so powerfully agonizing to watch that you could tell me it goes on for hours, and I would believe you.

And yet, despite being funny and toe-curling, “L to the OG” is deceptively rich in meaning. I intend to show that “L to the OG” is many things: a hymn to a cruel god, an elegy for a complicated father, a shout into the void, and a desperate attempt to wink at an audience that is content to point and laugh.

The Background

“L to the OG” is a performance within Succession, transforming all of the characters (sans Kendall) into spectators. The audience is therefore brought to the same level of consumption as the characters, who react to Kendall’s rap in the varying ways that the audience does: with laughter, with extreme discomfort, and with reluctant support.

Kendall insists that the rap is performed as a favor to Rhea, who planned the celebration in Dundee, Scotland, “to honor [Logan’s] life and work” (Britell, Introduction). This event is disastrous even without “L to the OG”. As creator Jesse Armstrong notes in a behind-the-scenes video concerning the episode, “[Logan] is not huge on the past”. Indeed, Logan does not concern himself with sentimentality at all, preferring to look to the future and not dwell upon trauma, pain, or overcoming said trauma and pain. All of this is to say that the 50th anniversary celebration and “L to the OG” are ill-conceived tributes to Logan.

Kendall’s motivations for performing the rap are murky. It is unlikely that Rhea specifically asked Kendall to perform a rap tribute, after all. And Kendall’s well-documented infatuation with rap music suggests that he conceived of the idea and contracted Squiggle to execute it of his own volition. But I think that Kendall’s exact reasonings for his actions are purposefully unclear.

There is much to suggest that the genesis of “L to the OG” matters less than its execution. The justification is intentionally unsatisfactory, because what could possibly justify it? The truth lies in the performance. It is worth noting here that Succession does not contain any flashbacks to explain characters’ actions and motives. The only truths we have in Succession are from the characters’ interpretations of their pasts, and the impact it has had upon them. Succession is a show that asks its audience to reach their own conclusions, even at times suggesting that speculation is pointless when all we have is outcome.

With an understanding of the past that Kendall intends to honor as unclear as the performance itself, let us begin to examine the content of “L to the OG”.

Verse I: “Born on the North Bank”

Kendall begins his rap with the lines “Born on the North Bank / King of the East Side” (Verse 1, Lines 1-2). This couplet immediately establishes an implied comparison of Logan’s past and present (the “North Bank” being the North Bank of the River Tay in Scotland, where Logan was born, and the “East Side” referring to the East Side of New York City, where Logan currently resides) (Britell). “L to the OG” is, in many ways, a homage to victory over one’s circumstances: a “rags to riches” story, a declaration that one “started from the bottom” and therefore has earned everything that has come their way—a capitalist mantra.

It is noteworthy that Kendall draws an implicit comparison and distinction between Logan’s past and present with cardinal directions. “North” and “East” are not opposites like “North” and “South” or “East” and “West”. Nevertheless, Logan could be said to be travelling in a different “direction”, and is firmly in a different place than where he began (a fact that is heavily ironic, because he is, at the moment of the performance, back in Dundee). There are many other ways the rap reads as ironic: the performer of the “rags to riches” rap, Kendall, has been wealthy all his life and has earned very little (quite possibly nothing). This is, it could be argued, one of Logan’s primary resentments against his children. He has given them everything they could ever want, and he loathes them for their privilege and lack of true acumen.   

Let us continue to Kendall’s next declaration, implied to be about Logan despite the fact that he has yet to mention him by name: “Fifty years strong, now he’s rollin’ in a sick ride” (Verse 1, Line 3). By stating exactly how many “years” Logan has been “strong”, Kendall, intentionally or inadvertently, suggests that the 50th anniversary marks the “end of an era” for Logan, or at the very least, a significant benchmark. The fact that Logan names Rhea as his successor at the end of the episode is, of course, significant. And, as Logan’s wife, Marcia, remarks, the plaque Logan receives at the celebration is “[a] shiny little gravestone”, an argument that troubles Logan in its acuity (“Dundee”, 58:25).

The Chorus

As a tribute to Logan, “L to the OG” trivializes as much as it glorifies. Even if it is not Kendall’s intention to mock Logan, he does, and the experience embarrasses them both, something which Kendall doesn’t seem to realize. There is something childish about the rap as well. It reminds me of the scene in Hamilton when Philip performs a poem/rap for his father. Here, it is socially acceptable and not humiliating, because Philip is only nine years old. But in Succession, the thirty-nine year old Kendall’s attempt to glorify his father comes across as infantile, a point that is supported by a close-reading of the chorus. The rap spells out Logan’s name, constructing him while the rap as a whole constructs his life. It also puts me in mind of a nursery rhyme, that teaches who Logan is by way of the most basic fact about him: his name. Kendall’s insistence that his father is “playin’ / Playin’ like a pro” alludes on the surface to the ease and joy with which Logan “plays” in the corporate world (Chorus, Lines 3-4). But it is far from a serious examination. The entire thing is juvenile, and perhaps Logan thinks of this moment (among many others) when he tells his children “I love you, but you are not serious people” (“Rehearsal”, 53:33).

The juvenile, unserious nature of the performance is emphasized by Kendall’s repeated entreaty to the audience to “See” (and his later attempts to build up audience participation, which I will touch on later). The call to “see” asks the audience to witness; it commands them, in fact. At the same time, I imagine a child holding up a drawing for their father, begging him to “see”. Perhaps this image is all one needs to understand “L to the OG”, which is, at its core, a pathetic, sycophantic attempt from Kendall to show his father that he loves him, and wants to be loved in return. But I think “L to the OG” is more than just another example of Kendall’s failures and humiliations. It is also an elegy for Logan, and the truest monument to his impact.

Verse II: “A-1 Ratings, 80K Wine”

In the second verse, Kendall says that Logan is, “Never gonna stop, baby, fuck Father Time” (Verse 2, Line 3). There is dramatic irony in this statement, because Kendall, along with everyone else in the audience, is, of course, aware that Logan will someday “stop” and die, falling victim to “Father Time”. Kendall isn’t necessarily suggesting that this is impossible, or, conversely, imminent, but he is exaggerating his father’s power to the point that it becomes comical. Essentially, Kendall says the quiet part out loud, purposefully or inadvertently reminding everyone that Logan is an old man, and that they are at a celebration of his work that implies the end is near.

Kendall then declares, “I’ve been through hell / But since I stan Dad, I’m alive and well” (Verse 2, Lines 5-6). The audience in Dundee likely assumes that Kendall is referring to his history of substance abuse here, but the viewers of Succession have more privileged knowledge of Kendall’s recent experience. When I heard this couplet, at least, my mind immediately went to the events at the end of Season 1, when Kendall is involved in a case of vehicular manslaughter at his sister Shiv’s wedding, which is covered up by Logan. The incident heavily weighs on Kendall for the majority of Season 2, and though Squiggle could not have been aware of this event either, and likely was alluding to Kendall’s substance abuse when he wrote these lines, this does not mean that they cannot refer to the vehicular manslaughter as well. In fact, they carry far more poignancy with this understanding: it is because Kendall “stans” his father that he is “alive and well”, especially in this case. It is because he has pledged his loyalty, love, and worship to his father that his life has not been ruined, establishing an uneasy bond between the two, predicated upon an intense imbalance of power.

It is this power and influence that Kendall expands upon and glorifies with the lines “Shaper of views, creator of news / Father of many, paid all his dues” (Verse 2, Lines 7-8). The internal rhyme of “views” and “news” creates an association between the two: it is Logan’s argument that “views” and “news” (subjective and objective thought) are synonymous, indicated by his Fox News-esque network that spreads misinformation, ATN. Kendall attempts to argue that the influence and power wielded by Logan were gained legitimately as Logan “paid all his dues”. While it is true that Logan has suffered and worked to gain the power he now holds, his methods for achievement are less than admirable, to put it mildly. Logan would argue that he simply played the game of capitalism in the cut-throat way it was designed to be played. The argument that he played fairly, coming from Kendall, feels less than sincere. Kendall has previously railed against his father’s methods (albeit half-heartedly, and always with his own agenda). The ambiguity of the statement, with no evidence to support it, only further calls into question the very purpose of the celebration in Dundee. Is Logan worth celebrating, or is he a false idol?

In the first verse, Kendall calls his father a “five-star general”, in an apparent allusion to Logan’s interest in collecting war memorabilia: the medals of men who died in service of a greater cause. Logan certainly sees himself in the same way. He claims that he collects these medals out of respect for these men. His brother, Ewan, pierces through this argument, seeing Logan “with open eyes” (to allude to the title of the finale of Succession). Logan (consciously or subconsciously) is anxious over legitimacy. The question of legitimacy is at the very heart of Succession and any problem of power: do those who wield control actually deserve this privilege? It is no coincidence that Kendall goes on to warn others to not “run [their] mouth[s] at the king / Just pucker up, bitch, and go kiss the ring” (Verse 2, 9-10). This is a warning against challenging Logan’s legitimacy and influence, as Kendall has repeatedly done, and will do again. Thus, “L to the OG” could be read as a humiliation ritual, an act of restitution. While compelling, this belies the fact that Kendall was not pressured into performing “L to the OG”, despite what he asserts. Rather, he performs the rap with verve and total commitment, under no apparent obligation to anyone but himself.

Audience Reaction: A Brief Aside

This only augments the mortification we, the audience, feel for and at Kendall, which he seems oblivious of. Roman is the most vocal in the scene, begging Kendall “to stop this,” and declaring, “I think this might be the end of the company” (Dundee, 51:22-39). If you’ll excuse a small tangent, this is an interesting moment for Roman. He is the only one both bold enough to ask Kendall to stop his performance, and the only one that seems to feel an embarrassment rooted in sympathy for his brother. I am of the firm opinion that Roman is the most empathetic character in Succession, which manifests in an apparent lack of filter or kindness. He feels things too deeply in an unfeeling world, making him a perpetual outcast, despite his intuitive emotional intelligence and skill at reading others.

But back to Kendall.   

Conclusion

Creator Jesse Armstrong has remarked that “L to the OG” is “pretty embarrassing…[but] also kind of good” (Dundee, 1:04:02). There is certainly something vital and arresting about Kendall’s failure, something that draws the audience to him in this moment. “L to the OG” gets at the embarrassment of performance: of being seen, but not as you are. Kendall voluntarily turns himself into a caricature of blind adoration and loyalty.

This happens again in the Season 4 episode, “Living+”, when Kendall performs a “one-man show” with a video recording of his father. Like “L to the OG” this begins with an embarrassing performance that Kendall doesn’t seem to recognize for what it is. And yet, like in “L to the OG”, the earnestness with which Kendall performs, how hard he tries, almost makes him valiant, even as his intensity is humiliating.

The “Living+” performance is certainly more successful and apparently impactful on Kendall’s psyche (after it, he seems, for a moment, at peace, and even carves the number “one” into the sand, an allusion to Logan calling Kendall his “number one boy”). But, in my mind, “L to the OG” remains the more iconic moment in Succession, because it is a perfect summation of Kendall’s psyche. To paraphrase actor Jeremy Strong, it is a moment in which Kendall believes he is waving at the audience, in on the joke with them. In reality, he is drowning, and desperately motioning for help, something Kendall is unable to admit even to himself (Hill).

Kendall ends “L to the OG” with a call and response with the audience (“When I say ‘L’, you say ‘OG’”) (Verse 3, Line 1). At first, this falls flat. No one says anything. But Kendall tries again, and this time, a lackluster “OG” is heard. Kendall concludes his performance with the words “L to the motherfuckin’ OG”, as he places a tartan baseball cap on Logan’s head (Verse 3, Line 7). A tacky “crown”, the hat alludes to Logan’s Scottish heritage and the baseball caps he is seen wearing throughout the show. In a sense, it ties together his past and present, making a mockery of both. Logan is expressionless, stone-faced, as the crowd cheers for a performance they know is pathetic.

What could be a better monument to Logan Roy? “L to the OG” is a hymn to a dying god, an elegy, and it is no more than Logan deserves. Here, Logan reaps what he has sown: sycophantic followers (including his own children) who fail to see him as he is. He himself is a performance. Logan has constructed a mythos around himself, has placed himself on a pedestal, and it is not a flattering angle.

“L to the OG” is many things, but I think what it is most is a disappointment. It is the best Kendall can do: heap praise upon his father, with words that he didn’t even write, in the desperate hope that he just might be seen, or admired, or loved. All of this exists under layers and layers of irony, and this is the true tragedy of Succession. Nothing comes from nothing, and—in every possible sense—nothing can be real.

Works Cited

“Dundee.” Succession, created by Jesse Armstrong, season 2 episode 8, HBO Entertainment, 2019.

Hill, Libby. “‘Succession’: Jeremy Strong Knows Kendall Roy Has Always Been Drowning.” IndieWire, 2021. Accessed 28 June 2026.

Nicholas Britell – L to the OG Lyrics | Genius Lyrics. Accessed 27 June 2026.

“Rehearsal.” Succession, created by Jesse Armstrong, season 4 episode 2, HBO Entertainment, 2023.