Guilty As Charged 2001

Lyrics

[Skit: Eddie Murphy] Straight up, um, old people that get offended easily: Y'all should just get the fuck out now [Verse 1: Louis Logic] (Uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah, yeah) What's my name, baby? What's my name, baby? (In 2001, we making hot shit for these pussy motherfuckers) What's my name, baby? What's my name, baby? (Out there who don't know no different) What's my name, baby? What's my name, baby? (You know what I'm saying? Yo, yo, what) I hate rappers that spit nonsense for eight chapters You might as well play your tape backwards Safe crackers couldn't get it open like Logic at an open mic Signifying like Dolomite on sober nights But when I'm drunk and pissy, you're seeing something grizzly Stumbling dizzy with a saturated [?] committee From the city where the blacks & Puerto Rocks throw the bolos Put you in a chokehold and blood soak your polo Til it don't show the logo, ¿Comprende? Cause if you don't close your blowhole They'll show up where your hen stays If anybody's asking for it in the studio Then you knew this flow could be your last recording I'll leave your DAT distorted (Whyyyyy?) Cause your rhymes is worthless You can't finance a purchase with your wax in storage (Uh uh) My virulent verses would read like the Bible with curses If I [planted?] on the side of your churches [Chorus: Louis Logic] (x2) I'm guilty as charged, filthy-ass sergeant of slang The harder I craft my tracks, the harder they bang I been talking shit on that guy, disrespecting this guy You think I ain't got the balls, you've got to check my dick size [Verse 2: Louis Logic] I'm an off-kilter thought spiller My force built up after drinking twenty-four Millers My day seems twice as short when I daydream about Coors-filled cups and cigarettes with short filters Oftentimes, I'm lost in rhymes As if I lost my mind like a postman who missed his coffee time Rappers pissed me off this time and when I'm pissed off I wish for the chance to stab a redneck with a pitchfork Fuck phone sex, I rape the headset Bone the switchboard to get off and spray in excess So follow the folklore and the best you can hope for Is a broke jaw from a boxer that'll sock your [?] Like a hostile mobster if you dropped his pasta Cursed and sweared the Virgin Mary and then you shot his mama And that's a lot of drama for the average show Pack your clothes and leave my barrio before you're carried home [Chorus: Louis Logic] (x2) [Verse 3: Louis Logic] When I finally drop an album, I want to see my tape sell So much I'm eating robust meals until my face swells I'm sick of cold cuts and having to take els to pay my bills I need a deal to make me mils Or at least enough to quit my day job That'd suffice and make me feel I'm back to life, like a seance Chaos, corruption, and foulness would make a lovely Centerpiece on the lawn in front of your houses Who's that running his mouth? (It's Logic) One of the thousands of perverts spending time Looking under chicks' blouses I ain't the nice guy I once was I been through a lot of beer cans, blunt guts, and dumb sluts But if I had the choice to un-fuck my thinking My mother'd probably tell you that her son stuck with drinking Well, at least I like to recycle Only I do it by humping chicks, then dump the bitch Just to be spiteful [Chorus: Louis Logic] (x4) [Outro: Louis Logic] So, gentle motherfuckers I didn't want to be like this, niggas I'm trying to be a nice guy But motherfuckers is making me angry, man Y'all niggas making me sleepy with this shit Fuck you [?] bang upside your head Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you And the horse you rode in on I been told y'all before You slimy motherfuckers You know what I mean? Louis Logic Why y'all forcing me to do this shit to y'all Uh, yo (laughing) yeah