Logic feat. Young Sinatra
Album:
Lyrics:
You, you
Warm it up, warm it up
Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up
Warm it up, warm it up
Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up
This that Young Sinatra sh*t, yeah this that Young Sinatra sh*t
Shut the f**k up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit
Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick
Hey Bobby how can you tell? She on a Young Sinatra d**k
All these rappers wack as f**k, make the Young Sinatra sick
RattPack be the squad, that’s that Young Sinatra clique
God damn, this the Young Sinatra clique, God damn
Listen, yeah, I’m visualizing the realism in my life and actuality
Stuck to me fatality yeah this sh*t is my galaxy
I am who the baddest be
I’d rather be at academy
Killers be glad to be me
Magnify the sh*t like bifocal
Motherf**kers talk on the internet but in person they never vocal
Come to the hood and f**k you up if you prefer to be local
I’m local, from Noho, to Soho, getting G’s like I’m Frodo, you know ho I’m
Blessed like Sunday, flyer than a runway
Little Bobby never second guess that he goin’ make it one day
One wake, or another my brother word to your mother
They should give me a badge cuz I’m always under-covers
God damn I’m a miraculous man
You know I get, I get it, I get it, I get it
They turn out to spit it, rewind it and rip it
I can murder your whole album with a 30 second snippet
Pass the Mary Jane like I’m running a train with Peter Parker
Until I have more sex in the city than Jessica Parker
The deeper and deeper I go it get darker
They say the want the old me, the want the Young Sinatra back
The one that murder it, rip it up, never gonna give it up around an almanac
Yeah I’m all of that, fall back, like September again
Basking these rappers so hard that they won’t remember again
When it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I’m indigenous to this
This apparent, I’m barring down like a parent
When the beef is at steak, I’m Astros
My god level lyricism surpass flows
I’m much more than fast flows
Money talk cash flows
[?]
F**k that rap sh*t this that trap sh*t (Bobby)
This world is my contraption (Bobby)
I was born and raised in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk shit get kidnapped son (Bobby)
I don't really know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I bought some (ayy)
Thought you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I come from
Talking that sh*t, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know about me right now
Everything I want I get it somehow
F**k that trap sh*t this that rap sh*t
Give me the hand like John the Baptist
Ready to whip it I hoove in the catcher
Greatest alive like I'm Cassius
I put 'em all in they caskets
They can't see me get past this
I'm a bastard that mastered the flow and none of y'all ready for this massacre though
F**k what Logic had absent though
Matter of fact it's not impossible but highly improbable like
Saying the police isn't robbable
But I'm liable to walk up into a station in blue face
Like f**k the police!
Blue lives ain't a race
F**k whoever said this rap sh*t was never a race
This sh*t a marathon
Murder you motherf**kers and carry on
Claiming that you really 'bout ya sh*t
You got your Jim Carrey on, "Liar liar"
I might crucify ya
Number one 'til I die
Will never retire
I am the Messiah
I am the God of this sh*t
This is how we do it
Yeah I started this sh*t, yes I started this sh*t like
F**k that rap sh*t this that trap sh*t (Bobby)
This world is my contraption (Bobby)
I was born and raised in the trap son (Bobby)
Talk sh*t get kidnapped son (Bobby)
I don't really know why I rap son (ayy)
Money in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy)
Couple sports cars yeah I bought some (ayy)
Thought you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy)
Y'all don't really know where I come from
Talking that sh*t, I'm a come for it (what's good)
Tell me what you really know about me right now
Everything I want I get it somehow
Chart History | |
Chart Date | Position |
2018-03-24 | 98 |
Peak Position: #98
Number of Weeks on Chart: 1