Resume - Molemen, Louis Logic

Yeah, yeah.

This is Louis fucking Logic

Coming through your speakers and

Your sound system with The Molemen

Yo, my man Panik laced the track for y’all

You better bounce like basketball

We on our own shit like cats and dogs

So check it out y’all, check it out y’all

Check it out, what?

I always get the job cause I know what to do

Unless the odds are good

They find out that I’m a jerk then I’m like «Fuck you too!»

I’m a much improved Superman, plus a lover too

With the ability to snatch your silly slut from under you

It’s such a wonderful life, being someone who writes

Of things that go bump in the night and make you run for your life

I like to hunt with a knife, capture and kill

One of the punks that you might find on the mic

Cause I slash rappers at will

My eyes act as a filter

To expose the pussy under your tough guy exterior

And

I spill guts with precision of a taxidermist

Who confessed to gun threats up in Catholic churches

That’s why my wax is worshiped in the States and abroad

My place is secured for the world’s most tasteless award

Cause the further I stray from the Lord

The more underground and hot

Because my sound will win Satan’s applause

You don’t know a man who can get the job done

Before the cops come with bulletproof vests and shotguns

You don’t know a man who can get the job done

Before a chicken’s pop comes home with his five sons

And you don’t know a man who can get the job done

And make the snot run from niggas noses when they sob, son

And y’all don’t know a man that’s doper than me

Cause by comparison, all others are hopeless MC’s

Y’all should know that I was qualified

To swallow lies and piss truth serum

Cause if Blue hear 'em, talking shit, do spear 'em

So get too near 'em and get sent on your way

The Heavenly Gates when my pens on my page, I meant what I say

Cause I lecture like Lieutenant Frank Slade

So expect that I can bless the mic

While juggling three pinless grenades

I’m well versed in disproving theory on 'The Bell Curve'

As Logic L serves on committees that expel herbs

Nerds need not apply

It’s one or two dudes that’ll tell you he can run with Lou

But first he gotta lie

Sure it’s somewhat true, I’ll probably die

But until the vodka dries and the joints are through

It’s probably not tonight

My shelf life’s longer than a bottle of Amstel Light

Held inside a very tight cooler that was well iced

I seldom write a verse that wouldn’t melt a mic

So when my phrase sets the stage ablaze

You see a fire engine’s welcome lights

So let’s just say that I got the freshest resume

Cause I could catch a case in any place and then escape

And get away riding Debo’s bike

Despite the fact that the type of stuff I write in raps

Police don’t like

And you could still catch a cop saying, «He's so nice»

I’ll never stop fighting back and I don’t need no mic

Cause I might just snatch a bullhorn right out of a squad car

And scream a rhyme so loud the sound waves scramble the OnStar

If any question remains, I use professional aim

And target the section of brain that kept it aflame

And test him again to see if he’s a non-believer

But I bet that he’s changed

When my songs coming through his mom’s receiver

I’m a non-achiever, I don’t have to try

I can hold two mics like chopsticks and catch a fly

So ask me why I’m making rap records

I’m liver than fuck

Want to know why you don’t

Ask yourself, «Why do I suck?»