The Day I Was Born - Louis Logic, Jay Love, Odd Couple

Ah, so hmm… let me see… Very interesting

(The Odd Couple!)

I see your hobbies are drinking, smoking weed and all types of ill shit

Yo bust this, I spit from the love in my heart

And trust this, them spits’ll be up on the charts

So when it’s time for the rumble to start

My subtle remarks get up in your head and make you crumble apart

I spit a couple of bars then MCs disappear

One rhyme is worth more than what you gross in a fiscal year

My fist appears after two sips of beer and a 50 Smirnoff

Guaranteed to knock your lips and hands off

I took a placement test after two years of a school on a

And scored as a space cadet

I break cassettes lyrical face of death

Shot a dealer I ain’t payed yet to erase the debt

Blazing all the cess cause I got it for free

Now every dealer on my block is like «You're not copping from me!»

My pops dropped in the sea like garbage man, dropping debris

Now pro life has got a problem with me

With no diapers I’m shitting on the hottest MCs

I’m like a ghost writer

A player who’s not in the league

And consequently, that means I’m over top of the trees

And watching from a chopper like the Compton police

Approximately, too hot for some black number 3

Without my dick I made a bitch drop to her knees

Got it on lock with a key

It’s Logic and me

We spit the real hip-hop

Not what you watch on TV

I spend a long time drinking, a short time thinking, I’m just a short step from

my life-line shrinking

That’s why it ain’t much I won’t say in a song, because I started dying on the

day I was born

I spend a day or two puffed-up, a day as a drunk fuck, waiting for the day he

ain’t waking the fuck up

That’s why it ain’t much I won’t say in a song, because I started dying on the

day I was born

I’m a proud scrub and admittedly

My favorite shit’s waving at chicks from the cockpit of my man’s Infiniti

My holy trinity is beer sex and smokes

My Holy book contains humorous anecdotes and sexist jokes

A pure pervert who’s more covert than CIA

Spitting prescription forms so you’ll see it my way

I sleep in the day

Wake-up get weed on the way

Put the bid and press play I need a reason to stay

I write scriptures, developed into dark light pictures

I type vicious you bitches know who’s my guesses

Yeah I got a slight sickness for chicks in tight breaches

And swimmin' in 'em like vicious

So if they wish to seeing pictures of themselves on my next whack turner

pressing plan

They should get their chest enhanced or breast implants

I’m having sex with tramps in Guess jeans pants

Puffed the freshest plants now my ex is mad

Cause I step to 'em like «Can I get this dance ?»

Off to the mistress, some wives be stressed with cramps

I’m the best in the camp

Jason from crystal lake, with a twist of fate

I don’t flow I precipitate

And I initiate, and also, and watch you while you stuff the poison pasta in

your face

Taste the botulism, disgraceful communism, we’ll cum into your beer and take

the pot you piss in