Growing Pains II

[Intro (Acapella): Logic] I’m on the come up Anything that y'all do I’m one up Y'all grind till like 3 in the morning I grind till the sun up Homie that’s dedication This world is what I’m facing I only hope in the end that they all love and embrace me [Hook] (I'm trying to right my wrongs But it's funny them same wrongs helped me write this song) Momma I’m sorry that I left at 17 (I apologize a trillion times) [Verse 1: Logic] Everything ain’t what it seem when you try and follow your dreams First you saw the bigger picture Now you see behind the scenes You thought everything was sweet Now you see that shit is mean Got a taste now you a fiend Been into it since a teen Yeah he nice so all his friends say he gon’ blow like Hiroshim Eyes on the prize like the baddest bitch you ever seen At home late night, chillin, envisioning Himself on the cover of Vibe magazine But everything ain’t what it seems Though it seem like he gon’ blow Will he make it? Maybe so Too be honest I don’t know He got lyrics, he got flow But it takes so much mo' So much love So much pain With such little time to grow Yeah we love it when he smile But hate it when he frown Remember when that girl turned his world upside down But it made his music better Brought emotion made it clever Now we growing everyday But he hungry try to eat Brain like an EKG the way that he study the beat Now we know that he gon’ make it and he won’t accept defeat Now I ain’t tryin to be mean Now I ain’t tryin to be mean But everything ain’t what it seem [Hook] [Verse 2: Logic] So many times did I design a rhyme to blow your mind? Cos I know that I wasn’t destined to live a life of crime I remember Christmas’s with no presents I use to fear my future now I dread my adolescence Living a life of logic But it ain’t what it’s cut out to be Cos if I couldn’t rap y'all wouldn’t give a fuck about me Hip hop is politics Filled with nothing but strife and stress Time is money and it’s hard to invest Step on the stage I get the honeys so wet Rockin thousand dollar tuxes sippin on nothing but Moet Thinking I’m so set but really I ain’t done shit yet This game is war and in my mind I’m like a Vietnam vet Now I’m on the come up Anything that y'all do I’ll one up Y'all grind till 3 in the morning; I grind till the sun up Homie that’s dedication This world is what I’m facing I only hope in the end that they all love and embrace em [Hook] [Verse 3: Logic] For the motherfuckers that hated I made it Slowly elevated, escalated onto another level ha My flow is crack the game is Whitney yeah Fame is Bobby on their first date it ain’t hit me yet Visualizing driving down the horizon While you despising the fact that I’m rising So much hate within this world this shit is so traumatizing Steppin to me yeah you better be alphabetically ready Aim steady Lyricism sharp as machete I got it already See I was born to sell records You was destined to sell tunes All up your headphones Killing booths like cellphones (I got it) Cos everything ain’t what is seems It ain’t just him it takes a team At the ten headed to the zone in his mug mean Yeah the quarterback shines but not without a sense of safety So truly he is me and motherfucker you can’t face me Now I’ve had a lot of doubt But I had to throw that out Cos I find that they listen when I rhyme not when I shout And right now shit is rocky With me and my girl See music is my moon but this shawty is my world Think about you all the time Turn that shit into a rhyme Cos sometimes you can ignore me But the beat listens just fine Tell me do you even know If you truly want to grow Hate letters when I’m writing Love Jones all I know Cos everything ain’t what it seems [Hook] [Verse 4 (Acapella): Logic] Living a life you only dream about Flow angelic but now it’s time to bring the demon out Can you feel me? I said it’s hard being a saint inside a sinner’s body You know its hard living as Logic after living as Bobby This is the life I depicted As a child I picked it Feeling conflicted To music I am addicted Not one of y'all can predict it So many bars I’m feeling convicted Now writing like a felon I’m selling homie who you telling While y'all do everything by the book fuck that I’m rebelling Bitch I’m on another level A level you ain't seen A level that is truly only deemed for a king, cos The second you listen it’s my mission to murder any rendition Busting with precision If you in my vision I’m never missing Logic administer sinister verses like a minister for the listener Can you motherfuckers feel me?