Lyrics to YSIV Freestyle
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
They say they want the old Logic, the one that flow like a faucet
I'm still the same me, they just don't believe it like they agnostic
If I spit over the boom bap, they perceive it as nostalgic
But the truth is my subject matter is still the same
Production selection is still flame
But they love you on the come-up 'cause you ain't tainted by fame
And you still they little secret
That's the type of bullshit that they frequent
From 19 to 2019, been murdering this shit for a decade
From the boom bap to the trap, let my style cascade
Listen, listen, yeah
What's the dealy? Pass the Philly, get silly, that's on the really
We snappin' like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, I'm talking Achilles
Try to play me like I ain't me but I provided all the deets
Who you know worth $50 million still rapping on breakbeats?
From Nasty Nas, Big L, Tribe, the Roots, and many more
Of course, we could never forget Biggie and Young Shakur
Fuck the police, no, we ain't fucking with our pastor
I'm the bastard that mastered the flow, said it once before for sure
While 6ix produce hits from the soul, you already know
Visualising and realising my life is fucking crazy
Poppin' like Jay-Z, dirty dancing on the game like Swayze
I'm one of the illest, and bitch, I've been ready to kill this, it's so amazing
Bitch, I've been blazing, I'm talking grass, I ain't talking grazing
Latest shit the tape while I sip scotch, let the haters kick rocks
My flow is tip-top; I never flip flop, why? Cause my soul too strong
Did this all on my own 'cause waiting took too long
The flow sophisticated
All these youngins do is whine like they inebriated
I'm hated, but yeah, that's how you know I made it
I'm one of the illest, I'm one of the realest
I'm ready to kill this, the people they feel this
Me and my team made millions but you know we still us
Yeah, they wanna kill us but they all feel us
RattPack real all the time, we never phony
I'm single-handedly running the game like a Sony
While the rest of these rappers is acting
Pass 'em the Tony, pass 'em the Oscar
From the new school rappers, Logic's the illest on the roster
Smoke like a rasta
Black and white like Bob Marley, yeah, like Bob Marley
These racist motherfuckers hate that last line
Probably haters on the internet ain't got nothing to bargain
Said I'd never make it, bitch, I just sold out the Garden
Sinatra
Young Sinatra IV, the album
September 28th
Bringing that boom bap back for the RattPack
Yeah, yeah
They say they want the old Logic, the one that flow like a faucet
I'm still the same me, they just don't believe it like they agnostic
If I spit over the boom bap, they perceive it as nostalgic
But the truth is my subject matter is still the same
Production selection is still flame
But they love you on the come-up 'cause you ain't tainted by fame
And you still they little secret
That's the type of bullshit that they frequent
From 19 to 2019, been murdering this shit for a decade
From the boom bap to the trap, let my style cascade
Listen, listen, yeah
What's the dealy? Pass the Philly, get silly, that's on the really
We snappin' like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, I'm talking Achilles
Try to play me like I ain't me but I provided all the deets
Who you know worth $50 million still rapping on breakbeats?
From Nasty Nas, Big L, Tribe, the Roots, and many more
Of course, we could never forget Biggie and Young Shakur
Fuck the police, no, we ain't fucking with our pastor
I'm the bastard that mastered the flow, said it once before for sure
While 6ix produce hits from the soul, you already know
Visualising and realising my life is fucking crazy
Poppin' like Jay-Z, dirty dancing on the game like Swayze
I'm one of the illest, and bitch, I've been ready to kill this, it's so amazing
Bitch, I've been blazing, I'm talking grass, I ain't talking grazing
Latest shit the tape while I sip scotch, let the haters kick rocks
My flow is tip-top; I never flip flop, why? Cause my soul too strong
Did this all on my own 'cause waiting took too long
The flow sophisticated
All these youngins do is whine like they inebriated
I'm hated, but yeah, that's how you know I made it
I'm one of the illest, I'm one of the realest
I'm ready to kill this, the people they feel this
Me and my team made millions but you know we still us
Yeah, they wanna kill us but they all feel us
RattPack real all the time, we never phony
I'm single-handedly running the game like a Sony
While the rest of these rappers is acting
Pass 'em the Tony, pass 'em the Oscar
From the new school rappers, Logic's the illest on the roster
Smoke like a rasta
Black and white like Bob Marley, yeah, like Bob Marley
These racist motherfuckers hate that last line
Probably haters on the internet ain't got nothing to bargain
Said I'd never make it, bitch, I just sold out the Garden
Sinatra
Young Sinatra IV, the album
September 28th
Bringing that boom bap back for the RattPack
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