Who the Fuck Are You?

Who are you? Who am I? I'm Lou. Who the fuck are you? [Verse One] Yeah, check it out, my man Cimer Amor on the boards This is your tour guide, Louie Logic, fasten your seatbelts I start beef on dark streets, cursing the transients Take your pick of your latest whip, hearse or an ambulance Cause I'm a scientist to the rescue Who wish to infect you with contaminants from a test-tube I pop up on the scene unexpectedly All up in your city like teen mother pregnancy Fiends love my tendency to serve dope Cause I mesh with rap like a pimp in feathered hats and a fur coat Curtains closed, I'm a cop like Serpico Who'll lock you up in fresh wears and let you go in dirty clothes I'm naked wear my words exposed Disturbing folks performing bourbon soaked at suburban shows Alert the pope and you better call a doctor I'm going off my rocker when I chug a quart of vodka And just before the cops come I'll face a hundred dudes Like, "I'm Louis Logic, who the fuck are you?" [Scratched Samples] "Who the fuck are you?" {?} [Verse Two] Plain and simple, ordinary Jack's ain't as nimble Plus you lack the sack if your main veins are thimble I hang my head over the pane of windows Throwing up like, L.A. gang signs or graf paint in scribbles Blowing up's a far stretch, with Indy B-sides I'm hard pressed for a free ride like car theft I'm a hard head; I gotta chill with Joe Camel And stick with the liks like a hick in old flannel The contradiction in terms, to y'all niggas spitting a verse? Is like me smiling while I flip you the bird I mister disturbed and doctor depression I got an obsession for seeing police officers stressing And catching a deepthroating actress Who knows gymnastics And sucks the lubricant off of prophylactics The facts is, I specialize in crushing brews I'm Louis Logic nigga, who the fuck are you? [Verse Three] I create new constructs of lewd conduct Something similar to {Luke on dust?} The faint of heart want to puke on us, my cohorts are so sick You're sold short sleeping in your futon ????? We throw bricks cause we building, not a lack of skill Fake cats make a killing in the actor's guild I got a glass to fill with beer Sipping while I'm stealing gear whipping a black Cadillac Seville Niggas asking, "is this cat for real?" Shit I'm swallowing some Advil pills with a flask that's filled As a meal, I'm a shoe in, when it comes to spewing confusion Over-achiever, working on improving my boozing If you think that that's funny A drug dealer tried to buy my single DAT from me with some crack money Sonny, my style is new plus improved Cause I'm Louis Logic, who the fuck are you?