[Intro] :
Yo, bear with me
We gonna try and get this joint on the first track
Aight?

[Psychological]:
Hip hop fanatic, my lyrics mathematic
I been chillin' in the attic like Anne Frank
Writing in my journal in front of the whole rank like a colonel
Whenever I'm on the track, guarantee that it's nasty
Hit ya with the steel like Cassie from Degrassi
Yeah, I shut ya down like panic switches
On the green mile, call it the road to riches
Spit fire every time my vocal cord twitches
My high-caliber grammar blow you right out ya britches
Knocking motherfuckers out whenever my knuckle itches
Psychological, but just call me Logic for short, ya mind I contort
Murder MCs for the sport
All I do is get pussy and write - I'm a dork
Flyer than projectiles then vacate the airport
MCs nowadays think it's a rap race
I'm a lyrical back brace - rap I support
19, almost 20, rappin' to get the money
They see the white boy from Maryland and think it's funny
'Till I slaughter 'em, lyrically manifested, best to get rid of all 'em
Speakin' in the third, he the illest, why they callin' him
Underdog 'till he's top dog, they wanna ball with him
Used to be a nobody, now all the labels callin' him
Why? 'Cause of what the people saw in him
Spit puzzle pieces, so guess I'm jig-sawing 'em
Half-white, half-black, that's where I get it, Jack
I kill the beat, then resurrect it back
Just to kill it again, double jeopardy, scot-free
So, if you feel it, fuck with me