Vinyl Days (feat. DJ Premier)

Logic

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    Yeah-yeah, yeah
    Vinyl Days, DJ Premier
    That's my homie, that's my idol
    On the road to success but you're idle
    6ix on the beat, Rattpack, motherfucker, let's go
    Here we go, let's get it all

    All I need is one mic, one pen, one page to ignite
    Subject matter heavy but the flow is MC Lyte
    You mad as fuck, all you see is red like a conservative
    All the critics do is talk, I'm really not concerned with it
    Hella tired and we can make your residency permanent
    Several shots, they tyin' up your body with a tourniquet
    Let it rock, it's obvious that he don't know who turn it is
    Keep my circle tight-knit 'cause people move deceitful
    Money and greed will expose you to the root of evil
    Already proved myself, not worried 'bout who's my equal
    Far from an Anti-vaxxer but I moved the needle
    She got me wonderin' if what I do is legal
    Fuck it, I'm goin' a hunnid in this Buick Regal
    Fuck it, I'm goin' a hunnid play, I'm Beanie Sigel
    You still run that old game, like a Neo, G-O
    You lookin' for me? I'ma be in Rio
    Sunbathin' off the coast, sippin' Pinot Grigio
    Out the country so much they like: Easy, gringo
    Straight off the two-track, don't need a single
    Travelled abroad for my catalog
    With all this money, recording raps on my Macintosh, call it Apple sauce
    Even with the cameras off, I be spazzin', dawg
    Drum machine, analog, the North Face camouflage
    That lo-fi dusty, Panasonic with the trackin' off
    Marijuana smoke fill the air like LA. traffic small
    Come on, homie, listen to the voice of reason
    Yeah, you talk a lot of shit but don't want the beef like a vegan
    Was passin' through like the aux channel
    And then I fell asleep on you, shit, we call you the golf channel
    I'm barbecue grillin' these rappers in Croc sandals
    Got money to cop Lambos, but I'd rather chop samples
    Many lines, many rhymes, shit, got it like Pennywise
    Shoutout Big Brother, got many eyes
    I'm like Malcolm peekin' through the mini-blinds
    Fuckin' with Logic, that's the reason that you stop breathing
    Cardiac arrest caught you at your chest
    Should've wore a vest, now you all a mess
    You know common threat, you should've wore a dress
    Polo high-tech with the navy crest
    Cut from the cloth you couldn't thread with a needle
    Bought the shit at Fred Segal, got your bitch spread eagle
    The revolution won't be televised, they tellin' lies
    They wanna strip your soul away and lead you to a world that's dry
    That's why we in the kitchen cookin', know you smell the vibes
    And stick to your ribs shit, no frozen fries, go against the gang, get pulverized
    I'm at the crib watch-watchin' Cobra Kai, thinkin' to myself, "God damn, how old am I?"
    Rose through depression like a rose, I was destined
    Your boy reach his goals like Lee Rose with the left hand
    When life takes a toll, I suppose it's a lesson
    Question, how you woke but you slept in?
    Treddin' on your rappers like Midas for over ten years
    Without changin' tires, shit, I should probably check the mileage
    Back on my hustle, got packs in the duffle
    Push rhymes like weight, yeah, you know I'm taxin' you double
    I'm in a pocket like I'm runnin' that, run it back
    I bought your new shit, hey, run me my money back
    Fly by night, this that flight like Mike
    ESPN, better get those highlights right
    Perform better when the lights shine bright
    You lookin' like food, it might get fried like rice
    Throw on a chef apron and I turn into Gordon Ramsey
    I seen cats sell they whole soul for a Camry
    I seen your favorite artists do the most just for Grammys
    I seen a grown man lyin' just to get to panties
    I'm cookin' like grannies, the recipe is sick and we got extras in the pantry
    I'm goin' Super Saiyan, just to represent the family
    I think that's why the haters can't stand me
    I'm not the socialite type, but my vocals quite right
    I'm still spittin' raps like it's Open Mic night
    I'm still gettin' played from the hoes you might like
    I'm still gettin' paid off the flows you probably bite
    It's Logic

    Yeah-yeah-yeah
    See—, see—, see—, see—, see the bigger picture so we can profit all around
    Yeah-yeah-yeah
    This is for my real hip-hop fans
    I—, I want that real back, back when you would feel tracks, yeah

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    Yeah
    See—, see—, see—, see—, see the bigger picture so we can profit all around
    Yeah-yeah-yeah
    This is for my real hip-hop fans

    I—, I want that real back, back when you would feel tracks, feel tracks
    I—, I—, I want that, I—, I want that real
    I—, I want that real back, back when you would feel tracks, feel tracks
    I—, I—, I—, I want that real, real—, real—, real—, real back
    I—, I want that real back—, back when you would feel tracks, feel tracks

    This is Logic
    This is Logic
    This is Lo—, Lo—, Lo— Logic, Logic

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