Louis Logic, Super Regular recordings, 5g's platinum, JJ Brown

Yo, before settin' it off know that the predator draws more blood than an open wound against the leading competator's gauze
leaving sores of bleeding jaws on the path
you should keep your eyes on Louis Logic & the drunken paisan icon
misconstruing optical illusions when boozing
as bottles ooze and love songs of us getting our drunk on
tippin' tequila 'til my tongue's warm
then fall off the stage
pass out while writin' a rhyme and scroll off the page
wake up in a rage and the shakes, where's my love gone?
I'm uncalm, a bottle of Jack at my lips
and a Guinness I.V. in one arm, Bass Ale in the other
make tonights Black & Tan but I still fail to recover
I hit step 6, my train of thought derails from the others
daydreamin' of a damzel with grain-alcohol wet lips
soup for Beck's fizz for breakfast
I'll count is as the juice from that food group and mark it off the checklist

*when I get bent I must represent.
*it's the truth like VOC 180 proof.
*shorty let me tell you 'bout my only vice, I gotta...
*drink a beer
*n-now gimme that
*when I get bent I must represent, no question
*I drink a Guinness Stout
*I take a small swig*I take a small swig
*tap it and then crack it...

I was born to beer kegs at college dorms and pop's liquor cabinet, my drunken slur is like a British accent
'cause when I'm takin' a flask to my face 'til I lay in the grass, and the rays that be tracing my past
I'm reborn a secret agent whose feet beat the pavement to the barstool
at a bar full of drunken drivers called the carpool
with a preacher at my right side, a cop at my left
double fisting a bottle of Becks and a Vodka and Schweppes
I spit a sad life story with Scotch intellect
and nod off in the middle, that's the possum effect
I'm still alive though
even after the shit close I'm outside
sharing sips with Cisco while I chill with a whino
who suffers from bottle neglect
he need a pint of self esteem, plus a shot of respect
with such a delicate habit, it's a lot to protect
'cause lady liks is like a landlord, she gotta collect...

The drunken dragons emerge from hibernation in a musky dungeon cavern
with an unparralled thirst that's unimagined
swerve in an old suburban with the front end crashed in,
signs of a hard night, previous
start a devious bar fight and escape with a six pack of Miller Lite and a cape
draped over my shoulders wit' a mask hiding my face
I erase my own identity
and I'm not even speaking governmentally
first name is surname
seen from a memory in a black out
I was found with my back out, naked assed
it's like my friends are proposing 'cause they afraid to ask
cause Logic's doin' the shit that made 'em late to class
the fool is back in the china shop, I gotta break the glass
after toastin' with Icon, we raise the magic potion
and the drunken addits notion last devotion
now that my bladder's soakin' with metaphors in it
I retreat to my suite at the Betty Ford clinic

{sample: black sheep; pass the 40)
**pass the forty, pass me the forty, pass it if you may
**pass the forty, pass the forty
**pass the forty, pass me the forty, pass it if you may
**pass the forty 'cause my mothers not lookin'

Lyrics submitted by convince

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