Demigodz, Louis Logic - Don't You Even Go There lyrics

How you doin'? My name's Louis, first of all
I make stupid music
For losers and beer abusers
Screw ups and human sewers
I'm a cesspool myself with a
Head full of wealth-y
Rich and sick shit thoughts that
Helps me to sell CDs
I mastered in givin' niggas gasps
As if asthma is constrictin' to
Clog the blunt passages
Act as if you don't want an ass whippin, see?
Sometimes bein' a pussy can
Have it's advantages
Isn't it glamorous to get your asses beat
By one of the last emcees
'til your cancellin' seats?
If the fans disagree, I make house calls
You keep it up
It'll be tough bustin' nuts without balls
I'm just an outlaw who doesn't belong
So strong I make my own squad
Look dumb on our songs
So when I put one of 'em on
Niggas get so mad i had to get a car
System with a headphone jack

I've existed for eons, peons run
Even three-on-one
My rhymes outshine like I got a neon tongue
In battle I'm gifted
It's like I'm cata-calysmic
The baddest to spit it
My optics read data and digit's
Like I'm Neo when I master the Matrix
Faster than spaceships

I'm a flow fanatic, memory is photographic
When I was a little sperm
Blasted out the prophylactic
Now I blow the static
Off your dusty phonograph

You wack jokes'll get your back broke
Cause, I keep it gangsta like Ice Cube
With jheri curls and black locs
Fast to blast like white teens in black coats
Walkin' in math class and clap
Till the gat smokes
Your girl jocks me and clocks
Me like a track coach

You can call the feds and the
Army or the fuckin' navy and I'm just that
While you sayin' you got gats cocked
Your whole platoon is lookin' like
The Mister Softee mascot
I give a fuck if you Believe It or Not
I'll rip Ripley's limbs off and beat 'em
With 'em till 'is body drops
It ain't a question if this shit is the bomb
I'll choke your bitch with a thong and
Dump 'er off on your lawn
It's funny the way I lick shots
Off in the sound booth
I'm so hilarious I pull walk-bys
In a clown suit my niggas keep it gator
And while your album's in stores now
It's in the trash can later
I hate a fuckin' emcee who think that
They can face the god Celph Titled
I'd rather use a rifle than
A microphone to snipe you
Certified officially, we got the ill flow
And make headlines like a corduroy pillow