Artist: Logic f/ Eminem
Album:  Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
Song:   Homicide
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro: Smokey Legendary] + (Logic)
Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
(Why, Dad?)
Because you came out of my balls, nigga!
{*both laugh*}

[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

[Logic]
I'm feelin like I'm chika-chika-chika Slim Shady with rabies

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, nigga shit"

[Chorus]

[Logic]
I'm feelin like I'm
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika Slim Shady

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]
I'm feelin like I'm
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika-chika Slim Shady

[Eminem]
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything
are getting washed, ligga-ligga-ligga, 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
... Hold 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 (haha)
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 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 MC's 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 bandanna back, and the fuckin headband again
A handkerchief and I'm thinkin of bringin the fuckin fingerless gloves back
And not givin 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 about 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

[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 tryin 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 standup 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 floorboards
While I'm world tourin
You usin way too many napkins, papkins
Lapkins and chapki-
You usin ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin
Flappin around like a bapkin
Flamminababbitapannitajampkin
Dammit, a can of pada-