Breifcase Bob

[Intro: Kevin Randolph]
Y'all youngsters don't know nothin' about Logic
Back in my day, motherfucker, he was that motherfuckin' nigga
It was Logic, Michael Jackson, Prince, James Brown
Logic be walkin' out on stage in a white blouse
With two tigers next to him and dolphins behind him
Just frolicking [?]

[Verse: Logic]
Ayo, I put the pen to the page
I’m writing this here backstage
I roll it up then I blaze
These lyrics enter pathways
They normally wouldn’t without the weed smoke
A middle finger to the whole world that’s the fucking emote
Y’all be broke, shut the fuck up and deep throat
Logic spitting fire then come back and watch you die of heat stroke
I’m in another dimension of ascension
Once I measure the dimensions of my room
Throw on the headset I’ll be back soon
‘Cause reality is just a deepfake, these niggas is fake deep
Playing [?], the retreat
Meanwhile, [?] sent me like 43 beats, I got ‘em all on repeat
Louis Vuitton on my feet, ‘cause I like nice shit and I’m a motherfucking beast
You need and example, feed me the sample and watch me flip it
Go to your head like a whippet
What’s in the briefcase, Bob?
You don’t work a 9 to 5, you don’t work that kind of job
It’s vintage 80’s, Louis V case, MPD in the inside
We call that shit the beat case
I’m writing raps on paper, yeah that shit you can’t replace
Y’all make the same art over and over you retrace
I’ll erase you then replace with a better version
Emerging out of the cut like blood rushing from the wound
Playing Metal Gear Solid in the green room

[Outro: Kevin Randolph]