Scott Storch
For Logic Fans aka The Internet
[Verse 1]
I'm a paul to Paul Bearer
Blue dead man in the pockets of bag leather
Needing to feel unique, the brave and the bold
Needed a code to my last effort
I'm leading the man's shepherd
Manipulating masses, focused on fake asses
Fake drama and asthmas
Mediocre or have it
Came from selling mucho molta in that abandoned
Loco n***as be telling to see they family
Po-po using yo homies to do the damage
Everything's a bit far-fetched to the scene and set
To all my young boys with pride, gambling lives
Put it on your soul and I pray that you win the bet

[Hook]
The homies don't talk there's always the internet
If the homies don't talk there's always the internet
To all my young boys with pride, gambling lives
Put it on your soul, I pray that you win the bet
If the homies don't talk there's always the internet (yeah yeah)

[Verse 2]
Who what said when, aye my dogs at
Tryna get ahead like a bobble or ball cap
Rushing for the sack at the moment the ball snap
I'm in a means struggle verses ghost of the future past
I blew though, mash and dash I'm Dan, fathered the swag
I'm counting and doing math, they pocket watching the cash
Dollars turn into millions just long as you on the path
I'm well aware of bullshit raps I be kickin' back
But the music only sell when when it's groovy or lack tax
But the music only sell when it's booty or lack attacks
Everything good until a n***a react
And cuz some lil' fuck shit
Try to play Obama and try Russian
Gold-plated dreams and good american hustlin'
Mini sandmans who brains waterly rusted
Saying anything and automatically trust it (yeah yeah)