| What up Bobby
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| This that 95 shit right here
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| Take 'em back to the 90s!
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| Okay, now take a trip inside my mind like you was off to Venice
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| It’s me and B-I-G L-N-B-O cooking like chemists
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| Take them back to way back when like Dennis, The Menace
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| Causing mayhem on the come up like a young apprentice
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| Smoking weed and getting higher then a flight attendant
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| Hip-hop descendant, gold Jesus on my pendant
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| Got to pull it out for everyone that’s in attendance
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| Okay, back in the day as a college park tenant
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| Still can’t believe I didn’t get a shorty pregnant
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| Man. |
| that’s the definition of a life sentence
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| A whole lot of beef, no bread, no lettuce
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| Cause I couldn’t keep it in my briefs, man that’s pathetic
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| Fuck all that back and forth, this ain’t a game of tennis
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| I’ll be in my mothafuckin' chamber like the senate
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| Scared to go outside but I know I can’t prevent it
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| I’m, forever alone in my mind
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| See I’m a self diagnosed hypochondriac
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| Either at the crib, or on the tour bus is where you’ll find me at
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| Yeah, I know that I’m livin' like I got it okay, yeah
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| But I swear that I’m not that neurotic over here, yeah
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| Over here, over here
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| Over here, over here
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| Over here, over here
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| Over here, over here
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| Ayo, fuck all that, it’s the fat young Jesus
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| Flow prestigious
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| Stackin' money and playing the field man like Regis
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| Better believe us or leave us
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| Grabbin' your bitches' cleavage like, oo-ah
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| I went from surveying to Super Saiyan slayin' the man
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| Bitches want an autograph, I sign them titties in crayon
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| Like goddamn
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| It’s me and B-I-G-L-N-B-O cooking like chemists
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| Posted in the club in baggy jeans and a beanie
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| Sippin' on a martini, takin' my pick at bitches like eenie meenie
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| I’m unscannable, young cannibal
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| Eat wack MCs like Hannibal
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| Cause Joe Pesci’s my spirit animal
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| Over here, over here
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| Over here, over here
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| Over here, over here
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| Over here, over here
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| Okay the flow delicious, bounty huntin' like Sid Vicious
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| The young Spiegle, interstellar with my retrieval
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| Furthest from evil, I throw this shit back like medieval
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| I spit at it like a Baretta, you know I get better by givin' the people
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| Not a fuck given, check the method, that’s how we livin'
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| Always been driven, out of sight and yet never hidden
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| The Return of the Jedi, bitch I bet I do the show and catch a red eye
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| Ho I said I leave 'em dead, I know I do
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| This shit is overduePass me the fifth and I’m comin' through
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| The B-I-G-L-E-N-B-O on the way to Rio
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| Aye dios mio, lookin' for a Latin Leo
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| To hold a brother down like the white man
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| Fuck that, nigga
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| Ayo enough’s enough, man of my word, I never bluff
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| Even in a pair of cuffs know we always keep it real
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| Like goddamn, don’t even step like I ain’t the man
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| I’m just 301 reppin', second I step in Maryland
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| I gotta conceal it like a murder weapon
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| I kept in the glove, Ratt Pack you know it’s all love
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| We the realest so fuck you if you ain’t feel this
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| Throw a Molotov in your crib and tell them bitches to bill us
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| We the illest
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| Finger fuck a critic, shit is darker than The Chronicles of Riddick
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| Yes I did it, while they bit it, you know we got it
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| Smack you with the palm, save the back for your mom
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| Sound the alarm, you know we got it goin' on |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Young Jesus , by - Logic. Song from the album The Incredible True Story, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп