Baby Genius (Isis Remix) [Logic Diss]

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Yolay Reverence

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I never had shit until I was screaming
F*ck the world
Too many counterfeiting fritters making money
At the price of selling their soul, yeah
Here's a record, I reckon
That you can wreck it
Think it's time that you be taking your throne, yeah
I've been waiting patiently
But no more letting these bitches eat it from my bowl, yeah
Lick my balls clean
You a G? okay
If you a G
Be a G
If you a geek
Be a geek
But when geek's
Claims Gs
The game filled with these freeks
Neglect the real beasts
Making their money on the streets
Getting round how they please
But watched by police
Screaming F*ck The Police
As I dash over the fence of my neighbour
We ain't get along
No, his sold it'll fold under pressure
Snitching voluntarily but sooner or later
The motherfucker learn a lesson
It don't matter what the reason
What you did it for
I got enough enemies in blue suit uniforms
Yeah, I'm coming for
The head of young Sinatra
But a face looking trash
It belong in a dumpster
You got pimples poppin up the same reason Pinocchio's nose grows
But you gon' blame the season
Now ya constantly be thievin'
It don't matter what you're speaking
We don't know what to believe in
Cause it's been a while
Yeah it's been a while
You ain't bitten a style
Like the Shady freestyle at seventeen
Joyners concept and K Lamar's melodies
Jordan you should stop it you be bigger than this
But I'll be damned
If I let a snake hang with the kids
And I go ham
On the motherfucker living with pigs
The rap game
Now faker than Kylie Jenner tits
Fake lips
Spray tan
And fake hips
Yeah
Deliver the finger right to the gorilla
And when he be coming I'm just giving him an uppercut
If he keep coming I'll be pulling on my trigger
I'm leaving his mother to find him in a pool of blood
What's it called
When narcs all get together?
A rat pack?
Unless you got names better
I'm heated heavy ready to bang for the S.Y.D
They questioned if I slanged, hoe yes I did
The judge don't be knowing that so fritter zip ya lips
I gotta get a better record if I wanna take trips
Don't wanna get jobs
But don't wanna rob
Though I'd rather do that
Than work for a bitch
F*ck this shit
I've waited too long
So I'm aiming at the motherfucking punk on this song
I just stole the beat from the thief
Real talent from the street
You can feel me when I speak
He drop when I hit
Call his mother to retrieve
Cause he ain't the type of kid
For walkin' the streets
Gotta watch his back so often
He walk with police
You can laugh
Till you're living in the dark underneath, yeah
Buried alive
Cause the world don't need this
Too a little brat
From a baby genius, ya
Smooth
Talkin' like you ain't the one to ever get offended
Are you real son? Can you kick it independent?
Get a real one, never rock a fake pendant
Cause the real recognize the real
Feel
I'm on a higher tier
Will
Don't know how to give up
Fear
I will never give up
Woah
I just wanna get high
No
Other way to get by
Woah
One time you be reppin' biracial
Woah
Two times
Oh you rep it again
Woah
Three times
You be makin' up a track
About you never getting respect
Because of the color of your skin
Woah
Studio gangster
Reppin' street crime
So false
When you speak here your beat lies
No pulse around me
Guarantee I'll be damned
If you tellin' me
What the beef be
When I realize
Real eyes realize them real lies
So free to get a bit of class and revise
Your mental illness got a fake portrayal
We couldn't kick it, couldn't hang
Cause you about Betrayal

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