GRAND AGENT

GRAND AGENT - Service The Target lyrics

rate me

(feat. Louis Logic)

[Grand Agent]

My name is Grand Agent

Check check it out

I'm down wit Jim Slade, he's down wit Louis Logic

Jim Slade, Grand Agent, Louis Logic

[Chorus x2]

Service the target

Where it hurt the most we hit the hardest

Point blank range aimin at them artist

Your game ain't up to par

It's time we turned lames into martyrs

[Grand Agent]

I got a thing for potent words like cocaine

Inside the flow game, they don't know how to show shame

Additional instrumentation ain't it, sane it

Strictly words and ventilation when I paint it

Famous as Footwear gear, plane as Goodyear

Black and well-rounded, sales plaques mounted

Invite your dialouge, demigods to the dome

Leave a classic example on the porch if I ain't home

Then BOOM, I bloom just like breasts in the pre-pubesce

Easy now, who you test?

MC who stress me, arrest me cardiac

Stat like 'where the party at, black?'

Now it's in your back

Then insert the knife like the earth so good

Inside his wife, drink my flow, it's a way of life

Victory, it be the standard for me

I'm on some "I'm better than the rest of y'all"

As far as Grand can see

Nuttin but smut, now you watchin me

Butt-fuck doctrines clockin me through factory systems

Did you actually listen?

Or am I gonna have to return like I ain't burn you up sufficient

Turn me up when I be bitchin, my style is decision

Something like a violent Christian with a molavision

Turn me up when I be bitchin, my style is decision

Something like a violent Christian with a molavision

Service the target

[Louis Logic]

I walk up in a strange person's department

With the purpose of startin

A fire that burns up your carpet and murders your market

Campaign strategist like a murderous arsonist

Whose brain passages resemble insane activists

It's gonna take alot of band-aids

And governmental mandates to save your fanbase

When Louis Logic slayed

And Grand Agent put the heat to the beat

MC's get so weak in the knees they need to retreat

This is warfare, combat, that switches sportswear

On contact, to your ears when we on tracks

The effect to this is stronger than the head that spins

In the Exorcist, or cigarettes and gin on a pregnant chick

Somebody's bound to die

My record company's out to hide something about this guy

They say "Logic's such a character, he'll probably just embarass ya"

That's why I'll never get the fuck wit Arista

Plus my manager thinks that I drink too much

I probably think too much, of morbid things and such

Like ringin sluts' necks, I'm a suspect to the crime scene

Retired green wit my team spillin vats of Visine

I got a dirty mouth, but I practice hygiene

What I mean by that is cats will catch a cursing-out

With the maximum curse amount in a verse allowed

I don't worry 'bout puttin fuckin clean versions out

[Chorus x2]

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