Lyrics
Yeah, smoking in London while the snow fall
In another country
So pardon me for the roll call
Damn, who would've thought the fan
Base was this immense?
On the first fucking train to
Paris so pardon my french shows sold out
Fans in line even though it's cold out
Yeah, touring Europe getting swiss cheese
Many said I'd never attain it
Now I'm like, "Bitch please, what up?"
Allow me to open up the
Verse with something so diverse
Now let the flow immerse
Hold up watch it disperse visions of Biggie
Big L and 2Pac just looking at me (Biggie)
From the gates of Heaven while
The police booking at me
Open your mental while bitches give
Me brain with no dental
Y'all probably think I'm crazy
For touching this instrumental
Shout out my cousin Ego
He know this shit's sentimental
Been doing this shit for my dogs
Holding down the kennel
My ex hit me, talkin' 'bout she wanna make up
But on the real
I got no time for cover girls
Music is my main bitch
No time for other girls
I'm finna blow like Hiroshima
My demeanor get meaner
Watch me elevate to arenas
Me without the mic
That's like Martin without the Gina
Venus without Serena
Now these thirsty bitches on the dick
We call that Aquafina
I used to bus tables until them tables turned
And everything I have obtained
Is everything I've earned
And everything I rap about
Is everything I've learned
So hopefully the listener can
Position a situation
Where they don't get burned and they
Can learn from my mistakes
Like I've learned from the greats
To do whatever it takes
For Heaven's sakes open your mind
This shit one of a kind
Elegant and refined, irrelevant to the swine
What's the deal? Whipping through LA
In the coupe de Ville
On the real, to various people I do appeal
'cause of skill
So this the type of shit I'm gon' keep making
That make MCs break fast
Like flapjacks and bacon
Rest in peace to BIG
And many other fallen soldiers
Never Hollywood, I'm grounded like
A cup of Folgers, bitch I told ya
Allow me to open up your mind and mold ya
Indulge ya, within this shit I call
The second Renaissance
The system broke and they sent
Logic in for maintenance
'Cause all you wack rappers couldn't
Break change to make sense
I'm back again with another argument about
How much I'm black again
Fighting for credibility from the
Lack of blacker skin
It's kind of funny how your pigment
Determines how people perceive you
That's ignant
Ain't seen my momma in a minute
'Cause growing up she called me a nigger
That would never amount to nothing
Racism from my own momma
Left home 'cause of drama
But I can make it in the rap game
Look at Obama you ain't been in my shoes
You don't know my story
You don't know what's in store
But bitch I stocked the inventory
Fuck a critic with the balls to try
To tell me how I feel
You wasn't with me as a child
Never once did you feel
The pain of my stomach that manifested
From the lack of meals
Headed to the soup kitchen on foot
By the lack of wheels
We aim to keep it real and
Hell no we ain't never missing
Came a long way from eating
When government gave permission
If you think these lyrics ain't deep
You too stupid to listen
Just an outcast with a mission to
Spit to whoever listen, bitch, it's Logic
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
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LyricIQ Analysis
Top Emotion
Sadness
Sentiment
Theme
Race and ethnicity
