Homicide

[Intro: Smokey Legendary, Logic & Both]

Son, you know why you the greatest alive?

Why, Dad?

Because you came out of my balls, nigga

Hahahahahaha

[Chorus: Logic]

Fuck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic

Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note, fuck that

Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady with rabies

[Verse 1: Logic]

I'm foamin' at the mouth, ain't nobody takin' me out

Every single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what I'm about

And I dare you to test me

'Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me

And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration

But I'm full of innovation

And I'm tired of all of this high school "he's cool, he's not" rap shit

Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit

No, this ain't a diss to the game, it's a gas to the flame

Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame

Like a moth to the flame, I'm a realer man, a killer

Know you feelin' lyricism when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself

Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself

Mass murder like this can't be good for my health

When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?

Well, it don't really matter, 'cause I'm killin' this shit

Yeah, I'm killin' this shit

Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this shit

Bobby, how many times you been killin' this shit?

Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit

[Chorus: Logic]

Fuck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic

Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note, fuck that

Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 2: Logic]

There's nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide

Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die

We gon' leave 'em crucified, we call this shit genocide

I got bitches, I got hoes, I got rare designer clothes

No, we ain't fuckin' with that

Yeah, there's a time and a place

But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps

Callin' yourself the greatest alive

Then you don't deserve to do that

No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that

You gon' get smacked

You gon' make Bobby attack

You gon' make Bobby Boy snap

You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)

[Chorus: Logic]

Fuck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic

Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note, fuck that

Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 3: Eminem]

Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z

Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything

Are getting washed now, liga-liga-liga, like bathing

Young Hova, I know hitters like Yankees

Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy

Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover

Your body goes limp and slumps over

Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered

Hold up, I said rover because now your Rover is red

Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant

But I roll over my opponents instead

Makin' dog sounds 'cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down

I'll go slow for the speds

But when I go (Roof!) like the doberman said

I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Haha)

Beast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit

With so many foul lines, you'll think I'm a free throw

Figured it was about time for people to eat crow

You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned?

I stay on my toes like the repo, a behemoth in sheep's clothes

From the East Coast to the West, I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T

Who the best, I don't gotta say a fuckin' thing, though

'Cause MCs know

But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts

Your shit is ass like a tailbone

Or you're trapped in your cell phone

Or my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe

I don't want to fuckin' listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote

Used to get beat up by the big kids

Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel

And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still

Now money's not a big deal

I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mill'

Big bills like a platypus

A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis

I'm lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin'

Batterin' everything and I've had it with the inadequate

Man, I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin

And I'm bringin' the bandana back, and the fuckin' headband again

A handkerchief and I'm thinkin' of bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back

And not giving a singular fuck, like fuck rap

I sound like a fuckin' millionaire

With a Derringer with a hair trigger

'Bout to bear hug it, fuckin' terrier, the Ric Flair dripper

Y'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil

When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct

I'm about to bare knuckle it, nah, fuck it

I'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket

Abraca-fuckin'-dabra

The track is the blood, I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it

What? Dracula, fuck that shit

I'm up, back with a thud

Man, stop

[Outro: Chris D'Elia]

Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' to

Do all this while ya panickin'

And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins

And I'm goin' to Fanagans

Trying to get up a plan against

All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans

While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana

You're in a cab-

I'm in a cabana and a Janet

I'm in a cabana chantin' all this stand up banter

While you don't got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina

You're lackin' the stamina while you're divorcin' Harrison Ford

And I'm in a Porsche on the floor boards

While I'm world tourin'

You usin' way too many napkins, papkins

Lapkins and chapki-

You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin'

Flappin' around like a bapkin'

Flamminababbitapannitajampkin

Dammit, a can of pada-

• Artist:Logic
• Album:Confessions of a Dangerous Mind