Logic - See You Space Cowboy... - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

See You Space Cowboy...

Logic

Bobby Tarantino III

47

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Intro] Yeah, yeah, uh [Verse 1] Grammy-nominated, never won it though Don't need it, but deep down I want it though Bank account still on a hunnid though My bank account still on a hunnid (Ayy) But that don't mean shit, that don't mean that I'm shit It's just me and my clique and we bombin' this shit Ain't no drama and shit, now I'm throwin' a fit Watch me throwin' a fit and get lit like I'm Evel Knievil Just me and my people, we call this the sequel to Under Pressure Ain't no need to measure who the best Fuck around and know who the best Who give a shit? I just spit about this and I know what I love R-A-double-T, I put nothing above like that thing in the glove From Maryland to LA, I'm a motherfucking boss at the bars And I'm down for the cause, who's down for the cause? Take a step back, hold up (L-O-G-I-C) Put the city on the map with the city on my back Let 'em know you're never ever goin' back (L-O-G-I-C) Don't be scared to murk 'em all, hurt 'em all, watch 'em all Get up all, watch 'em all get a ball (L-O-G-I-C) When you grow up in a hood without a male role model And your momma turn to the bottle Give a damn about status, who the baddest I just wanna be the raddest dad as I can be This shit is systemic inside of us B', the media lie to us B' They tell us we can be whoever we want to be And then when we try, what they tell us? (What they tell us?) What they tell us? To live more realistically (Ayy) Fuck that, get the fuck back, fuck rap and all that noise Growing up, how I grew up I really never had a choice Had killers and murderers in my house and they was all of my boys But deep down I always knew better, knew that shit I need to avoid [Verse 2] Ayy, ayo I got a lot on my mind Got a lot of work ahead of me I'm tryna maintain balance of my time Never want to let it bottle up like everything fine That's how you go crazy and end up in the pond I've been talkin' to my therapist Rhymes I've been writin' so hot you would think it was in Arabic Flow bomb like a terrorist, never careless I got soul like parish, yeah, from Tokyo to Paris My bitch bad, stay with money like a heiress Time with my wife and my son what I cherish [Break: Logic] Just try to relax your mind Just try to relax your mind Just try to relax your mind Just try to relax your mind
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