See You Space Cowboy... Logic

Yeah, yeah, uh

Grammy-nominated, never won it though
Don't need it, but deep down I want it though
Bank account still on a hunnid though
My bank account still on a hunnid (ayy)

But that don't mean shit, that don't mean that I'm shit
It's just me and my clique and we bombin' this shit
Ain't no drama and shit, now I'm throwin' a fit
Watch me throwin' a fit and get lit like I'm Evel Knievil

Just me and my people, we call this the sequel to Under Pressure
Ain't no need to measure who the best
Fuck around and know who the best
Who give a shit? I just spit about this, and I know what I love
R-A-double-T, I put nothin' above like that thing in the glove

From Maryland to LA, I'm a motherfuckin' boss at the bars
And I'm down for the cause, who's down for the cause?
Take a step back, hold up (L-O-G-I-C)
Put the city on the map with the city on my back
Let 'em know you're never ever goin' back (L-O-G-I-C)
Don't be scared to murk 'em all, hurt 'em all, watch 'em all
Get up all, watch 'em all get a ball (L-O-G-I-C)

When you grow up in a hood without a male role model
And your momma turn to the bottle
Give a damn about status, who the baddest
I just wanna be the raddest dad as I can be
This shit is systemic inside of us B', the media lie to us B'
They tell us we can be whoever we want to be
And then when we try, what they tell us? (What they tell us?)
What they tell us? To live more realistically, ayy

Fuck that, get the fuck back, fuck rap and all that noise (all that noise)
Growin' up, how I grew up I really never had a choice (never had a choice)
Had killers and murderers in my house, and they was all of my boys (all of my boys)
But deep down I always knew better, knew that shit I need to avoid

Yeah, ayo
I got a lot on my mind
Got a lot of work ahead of me
I'm tryna maintain balance of my time
Never want to let it bottle up like everything's fine
That's how you go crazy and end up in the pond

I've been talkin' to my therapist
Rhymes I've been writin' so hot you would think it was in Arabic
Flow bomb like a terrorist, never careless
I got soul like parish, yeah, from Tokyo to Paris
My bitch bad, stay with money like an heiress
Time with my wife and my son, what I cherish

Just try to relax your mind
Just try to relax your mind
Just try to relax your mind
Just try to relax your mind

Alright, well, I guess, um, I just I woke up one day
And I was like, "You know what? I kinda feel like rappin' again"
You know what I'm sayin'? So I did it
And I been chillin' with little Bobby and his fine ass momma
And we out here in the country
Shootin' guns, ridin' dirt bikes and shit
And I was just like, "Man, I wanna do this"

So I invited all the homiesout here in the middle of nowhere
And uh, we just decided to do this Bobby Tarantino EP
Three-peat, off the cuff just for fun, just for the summer, just for all the homies
But we actually out here recordin' this album
It's goin' to be my last studio-album on DefJam

So, so it's goin' to be a vibe, man
It's just goin' to be fun, you know, just a fun thing
You know me, I'm a nerd, I love hip-hop, man
I love you listenin', I love the fans, we doin' this shit for the fans, man
Whole time I was gone they was like, "Come back, come back"
And I was like, "Nah", and then-and then, and now I'm like, "Yeah, alright, I'm back"

I love y'all so much, RATTPACK, baby
Yeah, little Bobby (dadda, momma)