Mac Miller
Homicide (Nitin Randhawa Remix)
[Chorus: Logic]
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, chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady with rabies

[Verse 1: Logic]
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, this 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, n***a, shit

[Chorus: Logic]
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, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 2: Joyner lucas]
All of y'all wishy and washy
All y'all my kids in a car seat
I take my dime to hibachi, we do 69 like Tekashi
Lyin' in the sand, too much time in your hands, I think I need to find you a hobby
God got a plan, hope that God hold your hand, I think I'm 'bout to catch me a body!
Tell all my teachers that I said I'm back on my G shit and I'm coming back to get even
I went on tour and got paid, now I'm back in the region, I let off this mac for no reason
You are now witnessing greatness, I'm practically preaching and this is the passion of Jesus
And all you basic motherfuckas are lacking achievement, and I've just been laughing and geekin'
Back to business, I got mad intentions, I ain't perfect, I made some bad decisions
But it's competition, I'm a savage winning
You can have the digits, I'm a mathematician
I don't see you n***as, I've been lacking vision
You've been acting different, I've been acting distant
I'ma do some shit to bring me mad attention
You gon' do some shit that send me back to prison, whoa!
This is uncomfortable, you just keep putting your feet in a fire
I think my gun got a crush on you, boy, you 'bout to meet your secret admirer
How you do shit you don't wanna do? I do that shit just to keep me inspired
I used to hit it and leave when I wanted to, now I hit it and be sleepin' inside her, woo
Roll up on 'em when I pull up on 'em, put that motherfucking smoke up on 'em with that holy water
Joyner Lucas, I'm a holy mona leader motor runnin'
Man, too many n***as know about it, but I thought about it
Prayed about it to the Lord about it in the morning, but I gotta show 'em what it's all about and I'ma call 'em out
I ain't that n***a you could talk about, you better calm it down
Don't be tryna give me the run around, I'll shut 'em down god damn
[Chorus: Logic]
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, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 3: Logic]
There's nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide
Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) 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!)
[Chorus: Logic]
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, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 3: Mac Miller]
Yeah, what it look like?
Little too much sauce, get it cooked right
I'm the same mothafucka, been the same mothafucka
Make a motherfucker faint like Suge Knight, shit
Gotta make time
And it really ain't shit if it ain't mine
I'm a beast, I'm a dog, I'm a K-9
See the way I make her go down like a bassline (yeah)
Back when I was just a youngin', didn't have any nothin'
Always up to somethin', started gettin' money
Now I'm off and runnin', way too wild to function, call it comin' up
And yeah I'm on the escalator, they be starin' at me
They the spectators and I'm player Magic
I'm a ex-Laker, I'm a mess-maker
I don't stress paper, I don't care who has it (Ooh)

[Chorus: Logic]
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, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 4: Kendrick Lamar]
N***a do that shit, n***a done that shit
N***a any problem bet I overcome that shit
Twenty gold bottles I'm a drink on that shit
Twenty songs that I'm on number one that shit
My name gon' ring and my team gon' win
I shot a n***a once and I'd do that shit again
Put your hands on a Bible stealing candy at a store
To a black homicidal it's the same damn sin
Drop down, give me three points ho
K. Dot, give it to it how you want ho
I'm a show you what this West side about
I'm a pull up in a 'Rari at your grandmama's house, hey now
She got a n***a name in her mouth, hey now
T-O to M-O to ammo, I mean
My MO is zero, see commas, I promise
Now go tell your mama this dick ain't for free
This dick ain't, this dick ain't
This dick ain't, this dick ain't
This dick ain't for free
Touch that, I need cash back, transaction
I bust back in a all black Grand National
Hoodrats in the project if you ask 'em
They wanna buy the world, 10 racks on they taxes
Holiday cheers, tell 'em get checks with a bottle to the neck
N***a get it how you live

[Chorus: Logic]
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, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

[Verse 5: Eminem]
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything
Are getting washed, liga-liga-liga, 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
Hol' 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 Dobermann said
I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Ha-ha)
Beast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit
With so many foul lines, you'll 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's 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 MCs know
But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts
Your shit is ass like a tailbone
Or you're trapped in your cell phone
Or my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe
I don't wanna fuckin' listen to you spit your raps 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 mill'
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 a Derringer with a hair trigger
'Bout to bear hug a 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 'bout 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