Louis Logic - Don't You Even Go There lyrics

rate me

How you doin'? My name's Louis, first of all, I make stupid music

For losers and beer abusers, screw ups and human sewers

I'm a cesspool myself with a head full of wealth-y

Rich and sick shit thoughts that helps me to sell CDs

I mastered in givin' niggas gasps

As if asthma is constrictin' to clog the blunt passages

Act as if you don't want an ass whippin, see?

Sometimes bein' a pussy can have it's advantages

Isn't it glamorous to get your asses beat

By one of the last emcees, 'til your cancellin' seats?

If the fans disagree, I make house calls

You keep it up, it'll be tough bustin' nuts without balls

I'm just an outlaw who doesn't belong

So strong I make my own squad look dumb on our songs

So when I put one of 'em on, niggas get so mad

I had to get a car system with a headphone jack

I've existed for eons, peons run, even three-on-one

My rhymes outshine like I got a neon tongue

In battle I'm gifted, it's like I'm cata-calysmic

The baddest to spit it, my optics read data and digits

Like I'm Neo when I master the Matrix, faster than spaceships

{Futuristic flow} But bring it back to the basics

I'm a flow fanatic, memory is photographic

When I was a little sperm, blasted out the prophylactic

Now I blow the static off your dusty phonograph

{Ap's about to blow} like the noses on some coke addicts

You wack jokes'll get your back broke

Cause I keep it gangsta like Ice Cube with jheri curls and black locs

Fast to blast like white teens in black coats

Walkin' in math class and clap till the gat smokes

Your girl jocks me and clocks me like a track coach

You thought you had a doper flow, {ha! } I don't think so

{Yo}

You can call the feds and the army or the fuckin' navy

But you can't stop a wild animal hungry with rabies {grrrr... }

And I'm just that, while you sayin' you got gats cocked

Your whole platoon is lookin' like the Mister Softee mascot

I give a fuck if you Believe It or Not

I'll rip Ripley's limbs off and beat 'em with 'em till 'is body drops

It ain't a question if this shit is the bomb

I'll choke your bitch with a thong and dump 'er off on your lawn

It's funny the way I lick shots off in the sound booth

I'm so hilarious I pull walk-bys in a clown suit

My niggas keep it gator

And while your album's in stores now, it's in the trash can later

I hate a fuckin' emcee who think that they can face the god Celph Titled

I'd rather use a rifle than a microphone to snipe you

Certified officially, we got the I'll flow

And make headlines like a corduroy pillow