Correction Lyrics Clouds by Logic

Featuring(s) : Curren$y & Langston Bristol

Back

Lyrics

[Chorus: Logic]
I can give a fuck the shit you on
But I'm really tryna put you on
Finally out this bitch, I'm finally gone
Low-key I've been waitin' for so long (Y— Y— Y— Y— Yeah)
I can give a fuck the shit you on
But I'm really tryna put you on
Finally out this bitch, I'm finally gone
Low-key I've been waiting for so long

[Verse 1: Logic]
Take two, take one
Chillin' in the cut with my son and his baby mama
I was gonna hit the road, but I'm staying longer
Doing whatever the fuck I wanna do when I wanna do it
People thinking they know it, but they never knew it
What it be like, the spotlight, the hot takes and long nights
Yellin' at nobody and winning all of the wrong fights, it's alright
I'm off like a flight, took a left, did it right, what a sight
Knowing everything gon' be alright, likе K. Dot, 2015
It seem the art that I make over thеy heads like the Sistine
It really feel like ain't nobody ever listening
That's why I do it for me and the homies and nobody else
Making beats in my room by myself
Kinda funny how my last studio cost seven zeros
But I make the best shit when I'm all alone in my room
College Park coming soon
In the dark going off to the tune of the 808 boom
I stay with the trees like a baboon
Flow kinda fast, but it's chill like a pocket full of valium
Head up in the clouds, but I'm coming down soon, yeah

[Verse 2: Langston Bristol]
Low-key tryna get trophies with my dawgs (Woof)
Surely, you'll see my face smilin' on the front of a billboard soon
Truth is that I got a blueprint and I'm finna use it, nigga, let's get it
I'm tryna get a brand new coupe, she gon' wonder where the roof at when she get in it
(Wheels spinnin') While I'm on the e-way, I wish life was easy
If you a hater, then get the fuck up out the way
I only hang with my teammates
Pass the ball to me, mane
(My niggas, they real, they trill, yeah, all them stick to the code)
(If you start fakin' over here), I look you dead in the soul and tell you

[Outro: Curren$y]
She was in and out my suite all fashion week
Studio up in here sweet, I was crashin' beats
'Cause the paper don't sleep and my loved ones have needs
And my son need everything I never had times three
You's a cold motherfucker, my homies always remind me
They lift me up like that bomb weed
In this pound never found seeds
Just nugs, best buds, Bobby spoke of retirement
Thought all we'd get out of it was a best of
Or a greatest hits, realized he could still make time for the fam
Busy playin', but still make time for blazin' shit
Inspirational as a motherfucker, ask my brother
Hustles like no other, rose from my situ'
Rolls-Royces by the gutter
Bad bitch itchin' to sit her buns on the butter
Like her, but I don't love her
Push her to do better, but I don't shove her
Versace bedsheets, watchin' Deep Cover
Gucci rollaway bag, Louis V duffel

music video

Your name will be published. Leave fields blanks to remain anonymous.