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      Homicide (Ft Eminem)

      Homicide (Ft Eminem)

      Logic

      Escuchar lo mejor de la musica de Logic

      Logic - Homicide (Ft Eminem) Música y Letra

      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, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
      Leave a suicide note, fuck that
      Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
      I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
      I'm feelin' like I'm chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady with rabies
      I'm foamin' at the mouth, ain't nobody takin' me out
      Every single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what I'm about
      And I dare you to test me
      'Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me
      And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration, but I'm full of innovation
      And I'm tired of all of this high school, "He's cool, he's not" rap shit
      Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit
      No, this ain't a diss to the game, it's a gas to the flame
      Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame
      Like a moth to the flame, I'ma reel 'em in and kill 'em
      Know you feelin' lyricism when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself
      Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself
      Mass murder like this can't be good for my health
      When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?
      Well, it don't really matter, 'cause I'm killin' this shit
      Yeah, I'm killin' this shit
      Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm 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, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
      Leave a suicide note, fuck that
      Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
      I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
      I'm feelin' like I'm chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka Slim Shady
      There's 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 ain't fuckin' with that
      Yeah, there's a time and a place, but if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps
      Callin' yourself the greatest alive
      Then you don't 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, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
      Leave a suicide note, fuck that
      Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
      I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
      I'm feelin' like I'm 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 didn't 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
      I'll 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 I'm 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, I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T
      Who the best? I don't gotta say a fuckin' thing, though, 'cause MC's know
      But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts
      Your shit is ass like a tailbone
      And you're trapped in your cell phone
      On my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe
      I don't 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 wouldn't do shit but just sit still
      Now money's not a big deal
      I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mil'
      Big bills like a platypus
      A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis
      I'm lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin'
      Batterin' everything and I've had it with the inadequate
      Man, I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin
      And I'm bringin' the bandana back, and the fuckin' headband again
      A handkerchief and I'm 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
      Y'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil
      When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct
      I'm about to bare knuckle it, nah, fuck it
      I'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket, abraca-fuckin'-dabra
      The track is the blood, I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it
      What? Dracula, fuck that shit
      I'm up, back with a thud
      Man, stop
      Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' to
      Do all this while you panickin'
      And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins
      And I'm goin' to Fanagan's, 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
      You're in a cab
      I'm in a cabana and a Janet
      I'm in a cabana chantin' all this stand up banter
      While you don't got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina
      You're lackin' the stamina while you're divorcin' Harrison Ford
      And I'm in a Porsche on the floor boards
      While I'm world tourin'
      You usin' way too many napkins, papkins, lapkins and chapki
      You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm papkin'
      Flappin' around like a bapkin'
      Flammina babbita playin' a jampkin
      Dammit, a can of pa

      Logic - Homicide (Ft Eminem) Música y Letra

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