Service the Target

[Grand Agent] My name is Grand Agent Check check it out I'm down wit Jim Slade, he's down wit Louis Logic Jim Slade, Grand Agent, Louis Logic [Hook] 2x Service the target Where it hurt the most we hit the hardest Point blank range aimin at them artist Your game ain't up to par It's time we turned lames into martyrs [Grand Agent] I got a thing for potent words like cocaine Inside the flow game, they don't know how to show shame Additional instrumentation ain't it, sane it Strictly words and ventilation when I paint it Famous as Footwear gear, plane as Goodyear Black and well-rounded, sales plaques mounted Invite your dialouge, demigods to the dome Leave a classic example on the porch if I ain't home Then BOOM, I bloom just like breasts in the pre-pubesce Easy now, who you test? MC who stress me, arrest me cardiac Stat like 'where the party at, black?' Now it's in your back Then insert the knife like the earth so good Inside his wife, drink my flow, it's a way of life Victory, it be the standard for me I'm on some "I'm better than the rest of y'all" As far as Grand can see Nuttin but smut, now you watchin me Butt-fuck doctrines clockin me through factory systems Did you actually listen? Or am I gonna have to return like I ain't burn you up sufficient Turn me up when I be bitchin, my style is decision Something like a violent Christian with a molavision Turn me up when I be bitchin, my style is decision Something like a violent Christian with a molavision Service the target [Louis Logic] I walk up in a strange person's department With the purpose of startin A fire that burns up your carpet and murders your market Campaign strategist like a murderous arsonist Whose brain passages resemble insane activists It's gonna take alot of band-aids And governmental mandates to save your fanbase When Louis Logic slayed And Grand Agent put the heat to the beat MC's get so weak in the knees they need to retreat This is warfare, combat, that switches sportswear On contact, to your ears when we on tracks The effect to this is stronger than the head that spins In the Exorcist, or cigarettes and gin on a pregnant chick Somebody's bound to die My record company's out to hide something about this guy They say "Logic's such a character, he'll probably just embarass ya" That's why I'll never get the fuck wit Arista Plus my manager thinks that I drink too much I probably think too much, of morbid things and such Like ringin sluts' necks, I'm a suspect to the crime scene Retired green wit my team spillin vats of Visine I got a dirty mouth, but I practice hygiene What I mean by that is cats will catch a cursing-out With the maximum curse amount in a verse allowed I don't worry 'bout puttin fuckin clean versions out Chorus 2x