Logic — The Gauntlet 2009

[Verse 1: Logic] Uh Now who the fuck am I to say that you won't ever make it? But the way that you rap, the people just won't ever take it I don't understand why you think you finna live it up Like a honey on prom night, give it up Ain't no way you 'gon make it man, you need to conform Stop everything you doin', start rappin', and still perform You think that you really can record then go and perform All the stupid lyrical shit that you been doin? Think twice, boy, you never had a shot wit it Go tighten up your game, Botox wit it 'Cause we all know, I'm your worst critic So what you need to do, you need to do wit it Is stop, drop, roll out and forget it 'Cause like I said, all those people, they won't ever ever get it So listen up man, stop in yo' tracks Stop droppin' tracks and just relax Now who the fuck am I to say that you wrong, my man? But it's untouchable, they way I devise the plan 'Cause when I'm on it, I'm on it, and homie I ain't playin' 50/50 like a Gin and Tonic, y'know I'm sayin? Half emcee, other half listener Half capturer, and half prisoner They shit MIDI homie, my shit primo flow celsius and y'all twenty below [Verse 2: Redlineres] Look, I'm all about passin', I ain't got no time to fail Feelin' this wrath every time when I spit this hell (yeah) You a fraud nigga (uh) Yes, I can tell Playin' with your life is gonna get you in the box, in jail It ain't nothing harder than the bars (nah) My passion and everyday gift will take me far And no time for real, no time for lames Start drinkin' the liquor straight so it can take the pain I'm on the red line reminiscing on the train Think positive, and every day, just maintain You know? [Verse 3: J-Artz] Uh, Mr. Johnson, all-star Stockton Got a couple golden guns, double O marksman A double kill is needed to prove the skill Got the eyes outflow, no radar low I'm a black ho, no escape, let's go To the edge of the universe, homie let's roll Pyramid perfect point Double top blind spot Nano-tech injected, call me a Robojock Never seem fatigued, 'cause I'm airless Space travel with no ship, techless I'm naturally superior to other stage dwellers Sneak attack, body bag, dig a hole, Goodfellas D.C. Flash with this, others can't target it Got the speed force, welcome to the dark abyss [Verse 4: Steph] Caught up in a secret society And the money just feeds my anxiety 'Cause I know, I don't talk to the lord (uh) My heart dark for having to endorse such Pain as youngin' so to numb it I sip lean Let the weed fill up my lungs, and pop champagne 'Til I get sick stomach, just disgusting what we do for a Lil' money They say, "You gotta change your ways, 'cause the Lord's comin'" And I just gotta get paid, the landlord comin' So I'm like, "Forget God, just cut my check" Just like a Nike sweatshirt (uh) Caught up in the rapture, fashion and swagger Snapback, a wardrobe sharper than a dagger Polo sweater made the same year that I was born And hand on the bible to the in crowd I'm sworn in