| Ah, so hmm… let me see… Very interesting
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| (The Odd Couple!)
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| I see your hobbies are drinking, smoking weed and all types of ill shit
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| Yo bust this, I spit from the love in my heart
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| And trust this, them spits’ll be up on the charts
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| So when it’s time for the rumble to start
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| My subtle remarks get up in your head and make you crumble apart
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| I spit a couple of bars then MCs disappear
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| One rhyme is worth more than what you gross in a fiscal year
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| My fist appears after two sips of beer and a 50 Smirnoff
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| Guaranteed to knock your lips and hands off
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| I took a placement test after two years of a school on a
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| And scored as a space cadet
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| I break cassettes lyrical face of death
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| Shot a dealer I ain’t payed yet to erase the debt
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| Blazing all the cess cause I got it for free
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| Now every dealer on my block is like «You're not copping from me!»
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| My pops dropped in the sea like garbage man, dropping debris
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| Now pro life has got a problem with me
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| With no diapers I’m shitting on the hottest MCs
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| I’m like a ghost writer
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| A player who’s not in the league
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| And consequently, that means I’m over top of the trees
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| And watching from a chopper like the Compton police
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| Approximately, too hot for some black number 3
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| Without my dick I made a bitch drop to her knees
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| Got it on lock with a key
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| It’s Logic and me
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| We spit the real hip-hop
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| Not what you watch on TV
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| I spend a long time drinking, a short time thinking, I’m just a short step from
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| my life-line shrinking
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| That’s why it ain’t much I won’t say in a song, because I started dying on the
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| day I was born
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| I spend a day or two puffed-up, a day as a drunk fuck, waiting for the day he
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| ain’t waking the fuck up
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| That’s why it ain’t much I won’t say in a song, because I started dying on the
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| day I was born
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| I’m a proud scrub and admittedly
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| My favorite shit’s waving at chicks from the cockpit of my man’s Infiniti
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| My holy trinity is beer sex and smokes
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| My Holy book contains humorous anecdotes and sexist jokes
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| A pure pervert who’s more covert than CIA
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| Spitting prescription forms so you’ll see it my way
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| I sleep in the day
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| Wake-up get weed on the way
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| Put the bid and press play I need a reason to stay
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| I write scriptures, developed into dark light pictures
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| I type vicious you bitches know who’s my guesses
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| Yeah I got a slight sickness for chicks in tight breaches
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| And swimmin' in 'em like vicious
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| So if they wish to seeing pictures of themselves on my next whack turner
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| pressing plan
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| They should get their chest enhanced or breast implants
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| I’m having sex with tramps in Guess jeans pants
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| Puffed the freshest plants now my ex is mad
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| Cause I step to 'em like «Can I get this dance ?»
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| Off to the mistress, some wives be stressed with cramps
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| I’m the best in the camp
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| Jason from crystal lake, with a twist of fate
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| I don’t flow I precipitate
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| And I initiate, and also, and watch you while you stuff the poison pasta in
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| your face
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| Taste the botulism, disgraceful communism, we’ll cum into your beer and take
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| the pot you piss in |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Day I Was Born , by - Louis Logic. Song from the album Alcohol/Ism, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп