[Verse 1]
Yeah, niggas better lay low, I swear this ain’t no game bro
Asking for blessings won’t prevent you from being preyed on
See I ain’t underground or commercial, I’m in the grey zone
I had bars back when Verizon was making payphones
Niggas say that Hop fell off, I’m yelling "How, stupid?"
Y’all ain’t never eating but verbally making bowel movements
Better bow, you in the presence of wild coon shit
Fuck y’all, you gave me the mic knowing I’ll lose it
My style’s too sick, boy I’ve been programmed with pro raps
All these niggas’ tinder as fuck but still no match
I’m a nice guy but when I’m in front of the notepad
It’s fuck it, dawg, off with his head, shit it’ll grow back
How you claim to be ill when your career ain’t never seen a sequel
Niggas ain’t playing you in they Beats Pill
I could touch lives through the speaker, 3D skills
Stop it boy, I’m on a roll like TV film
I remember niggas didn’t fuck with me, dawg
The tables turned, now we’re even, damn, what are the odds?
There must be a God, you fuck with the ugliest broads
Your hands out, it better be for a lovely applause
Otherwise do not bother
Undercover Prodigy, how could I not prosper?
I am the godfather, style’s beyond proper
Fuck you little lame ass wannabe Hop bloggers mooching off Hop’s dollars
You niggas ain’t shit, you wish you were shot callers
So y’all can get fucked like I do at massage parlors
I’m in and out the Matrix, shit I utilize both
The Grim reaper, you and I know
Will you survive? No
Once this whack MCs find out I crucify souls
They’ll be calling the number on Logic’s suicide song



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