Is it still, is it goin'? (Yeah yeah)
(Alright)
so we gon' do this one like for the RattPack and shit, is it recordin'?
Alright for the real hip-hop motherfuckas, you know what I'm sayin?
(Yeah yeah) shout out to Bobby, my engineer
It's a nice night in L.A
We're recordin' this mixtape and shit
Workin' on the album at the same time, you know what I'm sayin?
Visionary boy (C Sick)
Yeah yeah, uh, yeah, we gon' do it for '96 (yeah)
We gon' do it for hip-hop (yeah, second renaissance type shit, check it)

Yeah
Who would have thought that paintin' pictures 'bout bein' broke
Would get me riches like dealin' coke
Like big brother used to do so we could stay afloat
I heard them guns outside my window, them gangsters would tote
Thought about the life I wanted, picked up the pen and then wrote
While they was firin', you could hear sirens
From people dialin' and women cryin' in the phone
I was in the zone, tryin' to make a livin'
Headin' to work in the mornin'
Everyday felt like I was mournin', as my dream was deceased
Until I quit my job, then my work ethic increased
Elevated to levels I ain't ever seen
Stackin' this cream, livin' the American dream now
I'm goin' crazy, I ain't slept in days
Dreamin' of Michael Jordan money like I slept in J's
Always shoutin' out my team 'cause I get all the plays
But they the ones that motivate me on depressin' days
See I'm from Maryland where cats draw gats like animation
From the smallest altercation, that can lead to termination
With a rapper on every corner, like the rest of the nation
Passin' bars back and forth like legal examinations
As a youngin' I was runnin' wild
Me and my homies skippin' school, puffin' on that loud
Doin' shit just to do it, 'cause we wasn't allowed
I thought I understood the world, but I was still a child, yeah
Now when my mama was at home drinkin', thinkin' 'bout the bills
I was dreamin' 'bout the mills, runnin' 'round lookin' for thrills
I guess this is how it feels when your memory spills onto the page
And paints a picture of another age
Back in West Deer Park, chillin' with shorties after dark
'Cause when the sun is down, the police always run us down
'Til we get older and hustle, now they tryna gun us down
We just tryin' to make a livin' off of what we've been given, wassup?

Walk on by
Walk on by
Walk, oh, walk on

Uh, yeah
They call me Logic, yeah that's L-O-G-I-C
I ain't wrapped up in them bitches, I just write 'bout shit I see
'Cause these lyrics set me free, fuck the world, let me be
And when I feel like I can't write, that's when I hit the MPC
My talent limitless, but time limited so listen up
If you can't see the shit I see, you better get your vision up
I'm the king, watch me reign, born to rule my domain
Album ain't even in stores, they tryna sue me for my name
Shit insane, so berserk, never complained, I just work
Chasin' after my dreams like them highschool skirts
Back as a youngin, spittin' game, tryna get the nut in
Livin' life to the fullest 'cause them little things ain't nothin'
My flow un-killable when I be murderin' syllables
But I take my time, slow it down, check the rhyme
Perfectionist to the dime, from the womb to the tomb
I be rappin' 'til I'm dyin', doin' everything I love
That's the life of a don, skippin' school, sippin' liquor
Tryna get this money quicker, bad bitches, good weed
That's the type of shit I need
Lyrics bleed from my mind state
Elevate my mind and watch it rise like the crime rate
'Cause sometimes I be high, and sometimes I be low
And sometimes I do shit I thought I'd never do before
My life is like a movie role that's starrin' me, got these women on me
I hit the club with all my homies, and the drinks is on me
At the crib with the shorty that I met at the spot
Pretty eyes, nice lips, Grey Goose what she sips
Both my hands on her hips, 'til she puts them on her tits
Freak bitch want the dick, bitin' on her finger tip
I only fuck with nice girls, I never do this type of shit
I'm thinkin' 'bout hittin' it raw, shit I must be wildin' out
But that pussy wet as hell, I think it's time to end the drought
Then again she could be burnin', and that's not what I'm about
So I dipped out, to live another day and die another night
'Cause when I'm gone that ain't gon' be the song that they recite, what up?

Walk on by
Walk on by
Walk, oh, walk on

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Burth Bacharach, Charles Dumazer, Hal David, Sir Robert Bryson Hall II