Lyrics Simple Words - Louis Logic, Jay Love, Odd Couple

Simple Words

I’ma let you know the deal, expose the real
I’m cold as steel, so chill and check these flows I spill
No deal
My lines makes MC’s lose they motor skills
So ill
I rhyme at your open mic and close the bill
I focus in and flip raps like flap jacks
And back track with Bono while you screaming «Where the DAT at?»
The rap pack
Pack a club like nap sacks
Attack wack rappers that lack tracks with back slaps
Well that’s that, here comes the truest prophets
J-Love and Louis Logic, you be stupid thinking you can stop it
Got food for topic, we be eating MC’s
Call me MC J. Dahlmer, eat the meat off your knees
I freak it with ease while you peeping my steez, creeping with thieves
Drinking the trees, my e-y-e's Vietnamese
Y’all be
Deep in a freeze, going iced out like Cryogenics
Go and try and set it
But you’re on some sweet shit like diabetics
«Your simple words just don’t move me»
«Don't make me have to call your name out»
«Ya minor»
I’m drinking beer till I’m thinking weird, suddenly disturbed
With two shots down next one will be my third
I’m a runaway, flasher, upsetting' innocent by passers
Cause I refuse to put my gun away
Buyin' beer and cigarette’s and for the underage
Puke into the sound booth and dive from the stage
I’ve become enraged, from sticky summer days
Of working for the man underpaid
I could give a fuck in each instance
To ever reach the distance
Travelling on the path of least resistance
Cause when the beat is finished
I still continue rhyming
With the breakthrough shit like I’m spilling into hymen
Logic is a sick fuck who love’s to get his dick sucked by rich sluts
And wipe my nuts off on their big bucks
I’m too mixed up with motherfuckers on the slide
Flipping you the bird with your mother in my ride
I was baptized in adulterous, orgasmic juice
With an attitude that’s flat lining your pulses
Chastised as the, ultimate cultist
Drink a river of liquor until my liver convulses
Yo I’m, switching the voltage cause these rhymes is too hot
Heard for two blocks in your boombox when J and Lou rocks
So who got, huge props?
Trying to diss us?
Oooh gods
I spit shit so ill I need a flu shot
Sharper than blue watch faces
But I’m suicidal
And liable to hang myself if my shoes got laces
Chilling in two hot places
Hades and Hell
Planting seeds with a sign that reads «Babies For Sale»
There ain’t no ladies in jail, son I can’t get locked up
Feeling boxed up, I live free through beats that chopped up
I pop up in battles and open mics
Provoke a fight then get ghost like Poltergeist