Growing Pains II - Logic

I'm on the come up

Anything that y'all do I'm one up

Y'all grind till like 3 in the morning

I grind till the sun up

Homie that's dedication

This world is what I'm facing

I only hope in the end that they all love and embrace me

I'm trying to right my wrongs

But it's funny them same wrongs helped me write this song

Momma I'm sorry that I left at 17

I apologize a trillion times

Everything ain't what it seem when you try and follow your dreams

First you saw the bigger picture

Now you see behind the scenes

You thought everything was sweet

Now you see that sh*t is mean

Got a taste now you a fiend

Been into it since a teen

Yeah he nice so all his friends say he gonna blow like Hirobumi

Eyes on the prize like the baddest b**ch you ever seen

At home late night chilling envisioning

Himself on the cover of vibe magazine

But everything ain't what it seems

Though it seem like he gonna blow

Will he make it

Maybe so

Too be honest I don't know

He got lyrics he got flow

But it takes so much mo'

So much love

So much pain

With such little time to grow

Yeah we love it when he smile

But hate it when he frown

Remember when that girl turned his world upside down

But it made his music better

Brought emotion made it clever

Now we growing everyday

But he hungry try to eat

Brain like an EKG the way that he study the beat

Now we know that he gonna make it and he won't accept defeat

Now I ain't trying to be mean

Now I ain't trying to be mean

But everything ain't what it seem

I'm trying to right my wrongs

But it's funny them same wrongs helped me write this song

Momma I'm sorry that I left at 17

I apologize a trillion times

So many times did I design a rhyme to blow your mind

Cos I know that I wasn't destined to live a life of crime

I remember Christmas's with no presents

I use to fear my future now I dread my adolescence

Living a life of logic

But it ain't what it's cut out to be

Cos if I couldn't rap y'all wouldn't give a f**k about me

Hip hop is politics

Filled with nothing but strife and stress

Time is money and it's hard to invest

Step on the stage I get the honeys so wet

Rocking thousand dollar tuxes sipping on nothing but Moet

Thinking I'm so set but really I ain't done sh*t yet

This game is war and in my mind I'm like a Vietnam vet

Now I'm on the come up

Anything that y'all do I'll one up

Y'all grind till 3 in the morning I grind till the sun up

Homie that's dedication

This world is what I'm facing

I only hope in the end that they all love and embrace em

I'm trying to right my wrongs

But it's funny them same wrongs helped me write this song

Momma I'm sorry that I left at 17

I apologize a trillion times

For the motherf**kers that hated I made it

Slowly elevated escalated onto another level ha

My flow is crack the game is Whitney yeah

Fame is bobby on their first date it ain't hit me yet

Visualizing driving down the horizon

While you despising the fact that I'm rising

So much hate within this world this sh*t is so traumatizing

Stepping to me yeah you better be alphabetically ready

Aim steady

Lyricism sharp as machete

I got it already

See I was born to sell records

You was destined to sell tunes

All up your headphones

Killing booths like cellphones

I got it

Cos everything ain't what is seems

It ain't just him it takes a team

At the ten headed to the zone in his mug mean

Yeah the quarterback shines but not without a sense of safety

So truly he is me and motherf**ker you can't face me

Now I've had a lot of doubt

But I had to throw that out

Cos I find that they listen when I rhyme not when I shout

And right now sh*t is rocky

With me and my girl

See music is my moon but this shawty is my world

Think about you all the time

Turn that sh*t into a rhyme

Cos sometimes you can ignore me

But the beat listens just fine

Tell me do you even know

If you truly want to grow

Hate letters when I'm writing love Jones all I know

Cos everything ain't what it seems

I'm trying to right my wrongs

But it's funny them same wrongs helped me write this song

Momma I'm sorry that I left at 17

I apologize a trillion times

Living a life you only dream about

Flow angelic but now it's time to bring the demon out

Can you feel me

I said it's hard being a saint inside a sinner's body

You know its hard living as logic after living as bobby

This is the life I depicted

As a child I picked it

Feeling conflicted

To music I am addicted

Not one of y'all can predict it

So many bars I'm feeling convicted

Now writing like a felon I'm selling homie who you telling

While y'all do everything by the book f**k that I'm rebelling

B**ch I'm on another level

A level you ain't seen

A level that is truly only deemed for a king cos

The second you listen it's my mission to murder any rendition

Busting with precision

If you in my vision I'm never missing

Logic administer sinister verses like a minister for the listener

Can you motherf**kers feel me