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lyrics "Logic - Homicide ft. Eminem"

 
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Artist express:Logic, Eminem
Release year:2019

Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
Why, Dad?
Because you came out of my balls, nigga
Hahahaha
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, aint no way in hell we leavin nobody alive
Leave a suicide note, fuck that
Bobby feelin villainous, he killin this
Im comin for your man and his lady and even the baby
Im feelin like Im chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady with rabies
Im foamin at the mouth, aint nobody takin me out
Every single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what Im about
And I dare you to test me
Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me
And maybe thats a little bit of an exaggeration, but Im full of innovation
And Im tired of all of this high school, "Hes cool, hes not" rap shit
Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit
No, this aint a diss to the game, its a gas to the flame
Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shits lame
Like a moth to the flame, Ima reel em in and kill em
Know you feelin lyricism when Im spillin it, Im feelin myself
Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin himself
Mass murder like this cant be good for my health
When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?
Well, it dont really matter, cause Im killin this shit
Yeah, Im killin this shit
Oh yeah, oh yeah, Im killin this shit
Bobby, how many times you been killin this shit?
Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit
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, aint no way in hell we leavin nobody alive
Leave a suicide note, fuck that
Bobby feelin villainous, he killin this
Im comin for your man and his lady and even the baby
Im feelin like Im chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady
Theres nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide
Hit em with that (doot, doot, doot) 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 aint fuckin with that
Yeah, theres a time and a place, but if you aint comin with the illest of raps
Callin yourself the greatest alive
Then you dont 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!)
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, aint no way in hell we leavin nobody alive
Leave a suicide note, fuck that
Bobby feelin villainous, he killin this
Im comin for your man and his lady and even the baby
Im feelin like Im chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like Jay-Z
Jig is up, you fuckers who didnt write anything
Are getting washed now, chicka-chicka-chicka, 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
Ill 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 think Im 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 clothes
From the East Coast to the West, Im the ethos and Im the G.O.A.T
Who the best? I dont gotta say a fuckin thing, though, cause MCs know
But you dont wanna hear me spit the facts
Your shit is ass like a tailbone
And youre trapped in your cell phone
On my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe
I dont want to fuckin listen to you spit your rap someone else wrote
Used to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
And I wouldnt do shit but just sit still
Now moneys not a big deal
Im rich, I wipe my ass with six mil
Big bills like a platypus
A caterpillars comin to get the cannabis
Im lookin for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin
Batterin everything and Ive had it with the inadequate
Man, I can see my dick is standin stiff as a mannequin
And Im bringin the bandana back, and the fuckin headband again
A handkerchief and Im thinkin of bringin the fuckin fingerless gloves back
And not giving a singular fuck, like fuck rap
I sound like a fuckin millionaire
With the Derringer with a hair trigger
Bout to bear hug it, fuckin terrier, the Ric Flair dripper
Yall couldnt hold a candle at a prayer vigil
When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin air duct
Im about to bare knuckle it, nah, fuck it
Im gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket, abraca-fuckin-dabra
The track is the blood, Im attracted, Im attackin it
What? Dracula, fuck that shit
Im up, back with a thud
Man, stop
Look what Im plannin, plannin, Im plannin to
Do all this while you panickin
And youre lookin and starin at mannequins
And Im goin to Fanagans, tryin 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
Youre in a cab
Im in a cabana and a Janet
Im in a cabana chantin all this stand up banter
While you dont got the stamina, youre lackin the stamina
Youre lackin the stamina while youre divorcin Harrison Ford
And Im in a Porsche on the floor boards
While Im world tourin
You usin way too many napkins, papkins, lapkins and chapki
You using ChapStick and napkins while Im papkin
Flappin around like a bapkin
Flammina babbita playin a jampkin
Dammit, a can of pa
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