Logic - Homicide Lyrics

Homicide Song Lyrics
Homicide by Logic [Intro: Smokey Legendary, Logic & Both]
Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
Why, Dad?
Because you came out of my balls, nigga
Hahahahahaha

[Chorus: Logic]
f**k 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
Even suicide, no, f**k 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’ out 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 motherf**kers 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 sh*t
Can a single one of you motherf**kers even rap? sh*t
No, this ain’t a diss to the game, it’s a gas to the flame
Nowadays, everybody sound the same, sh*t’s lame
Like a moth to the flame, I’m a realer man, a killer
Know you feelin’ it, I sizzle 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 sh*t?
Well, it don’t really matter, ’cause I’m killin’ this sh*t
Yeah, I’m killin’ this sh*t
Oh yeah, oh yeah, I’m killin’ this sh*t
Bobby, how many times you been killin’ this sh*t?
Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, sh*t

[Chorus: Logic]
f**k 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
Even suicide, no, f**k 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: Logic]
There’s nowhere to hide, we call this sh*t genocide
Hit ’em with that (Do-do-do) and they die
We gon’ leave ’em crucified, we call this sh*t genocide
I got b**ches, I got hoes, I got rare designer clothes
No, we ain’t f**kin’ 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]
f**k 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
Even suicide, no, f**k 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: Eminem]
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
Jig is up, you f**kers who didn’t write anything
Are getting washed now, chika-chika-chika, like bathing
Young Hova, I know hittas 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 rode 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 doberman said
I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Haha)
Beast mode, motherf**kers ’bout to get hit
With so many foul lines, you 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 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 f**kin’ thing though
‘Cause MCs know
But you don’t wanna hear me spit the facts
Your sh*t is ass like a tail bone
And you’re trapped in your cell phone
I’ma chicken scratch, I’ma self-loathe
I don’t want to f**kin’ listen to you spit your rap 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 sh*t 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 ’cause you motherf**kers 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 f**kin’ headband again
A handkerchief and I’m thinkin’ of bringin’ the f**kin’ fingerless gloves back
And not giving a singular f**k like f**k rap
I sound like a f**kin’ millionaire
With the Derringer with a hair trigger
‘Bout to bear hug your f**kin’ terrier to “Ric Flair Drip”
And y’all couldn’t hold a candle at a prayer vigil
When I vent, they compare me to a f**kin’ air duct
I’m about to bare knuckle it, nah, f**k it
I’m gonna go upside the head with a Nantucket
Abraca-f**kin’-dabra
The track is the blood of my track that I’m attackin’ it
What, Dracula? f**k that sh*t
I’m up, back with a thud-
Man, stop

[Outro: Chris D’Elia]
Look what I’m plannin’, plannin’, I’m plannin’ to
Do all this while ya panickin’
And you’re lookin’ and starin’ at mannequins
And I’m goin’ to Fanagans
Trying to get up a plan against
All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans
While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana
You’re in a cab-
I’m in a cabana and a Janet
I’m in a cabana chantin’ all this stand up banter
While you don’t got the stamina, you’re lackin’ the stamina
You’re lackin’ the stamina while you’re divorcin’ Harrison Ford
And I’m in a Porsche on the floor boards
While I’m world tourin’
You usin’ way too many napkins, papkins
Lapkins and chapki-
You using ChapStick and napkins while I’m bapkin’
Flappin’ around like a bapkin’
Flamminababbitapannitajampkin
Dammit, a can of p-