Logic
Tim Westwood Freestyle
[Intro:Logic]
RattPack, V's up
Check it out listen up

[Verse 1: Logic]
Uh, yeah, yeah
One day, I woke up
And said I'm 'bout do this for the rest of my life
No question it's right, waiting for the bus at a
Stop light looking at the cop right in front
Of my eyes, living in a world of lies
Where the truth dies and hatred
Multiplies, mu-mu-mu-multiplies
I said I can't take it
I remember wondering if I would ever make it
But as I reminisce I realize it was all
Irrelevant, it's evident, I'm getting money for the hell of it
Never fuck around until the flow celibate
Speaking for the people like a delegate
And when the situation's delicate, I execute it with the proper etiquette
E'rybody wanna get ahead of it - no
I can't take the time to stop
It ain't all about the money so I'm headed to the top
But I'm still getting guap, never stop 'less a body drop
Metaphorical motherfucker to get it in
While the whole world spin for the dividend
But I'm in another system
E'rybody hate 'til he dead then they miss him
Why can't we relax and listen?
Stop spending money on things that glisten
From the East Coast, but we chillin' out Cali
Cause your boy got drive like valet
Poppin' bottles of that bubbly, Calais
Leaving motherfuckers on their toes like ballet
White girls doing lines of white
And they be down to fuck if the time is right
Marry anybody if the diamond's right
And Ye we don’t give a fuck what they..
Bad bitches on they dick but I can't fade
Cause they in love with the fact that I'm getting paid
Make a motherfucker wanna roll up, cracka' hold up
In a drop top, on the West Coast, shout out to my homies up in
LA from the East Coast
G's up, hoes down when we come around
V's up, mu'fucka from the underground
And I made it to the mainstream, with the same team, on another level
But you on the same thing, lyrical fiend and I'ma flip it up with the same scheme
Rattpack 'til the casket, flowin' and cookin' it when the gas lit
When it comes to impeccable flow I'll leave 'em mastered
Getting money left and right I pan-cake
Got stacks like IHOP can't fake
On the road to riches so there ain't no need to brake
So come on homie tell me what it is
Never in another brother biz
Up in West Deer Park listening to Wiz
Getting money from every direction, no question
Living is a blessing, rest in peace to the homies that ain't
Here today, 'cause of the 'Pack I ain't got nun' to fear today
Reppin' MD, near DC, out VA, up NYC
Chillin' in the whip like, like, like Visionary
[Verse 2 (A Cappella): Logic]
And all these Spanish women watching me like a novella
And even when we in the crib I still need an umbrella
Cause I'm getting her wetter than a Letterman in the rain
We at the club hundreds and fifties I'm making it rain, sike nah!
All of y'all know I'm kiddin' like the rubber broke
Getting money and bitches but really that’s another note
And all these haters they can suck my dick
Cause honestly that's the only way you'll ever suck-ceed
Got what you need cause I sweat and I bleed
Did it all on my own didn't beg didn't plead
Everybody talkin' 'bout, "Logic, don't sell out!"
Bitch I had a deal for a year before it fell out
Doing shit that rappers never do you know I'm on that
So why don’t I start by telling you what was in my contract:
Make the type of music that I want - check
Work with whoever the hell I want - check
Keep it Visionary to the death - yep
Cause I'm doing it for the music, not just to get a check
V's up, what up, you know I'm on point
I be chillin' with your bitch while she rollin' up a joint
Making a killing for a living like a hitman
Rappers hear my new records and be like, "Aw shit, man!"
Black Power, black card, white fist
Ain't no way in hell a mixed brother didn’t write this
And everybody talking shit man, screw it
'Cause if YOU can do it better than me then YOU do it !
Where we going, really there's no tellin'
Lyrical cocaine, narcotics is what I'm sellin'
God-damn, got bars like a felon
And we getting C-notes like my homie Jon Bellion
Logic