[Intro]
~#**************#~
Yeah, yeah
~#**************#~
Hahaha
~#**************#~
Ayy
~#**************#~
[Chorus]
~#**************#~
Chillin with the homies at the crib
~#**************#~
Bumpin Pac Div, this the life I live, you aint know about it
~#**************#~
Hit the studio with No I.D.
~#**************#~
Make a couple platinum records in that bitch and then I dip up out it
~#**************#~
On the 101, my wife text me
~#**************#~
Talkin bout, “You gotta get home, feed your son,” girl, dont trip about it
~#**************#~
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
~#**************#~
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, dont give me lip about it
~#**************#~
[Verse 1]
~#**************#~
Im a dad, this my life
~#**************#~
This the type of shit I write
~#**************#~
I was hungry in the basement, now that boy, he full of life
~#**************#~
Smoking dope, high as a kite
~#**************#~
Only when that babysitter at the crib, though
~#**************#~
Take my shorty to Nobu and dig up in her rib though, ayy, yeah
~#**************#~
(Take my shorty to Nobu and dig up in her rib though, yeah)
~#**************#~
‘Cause back in my day it was food stamps
~#**************#~
And I love my wife like I am Chance
~#**************#~
I bet youd rap about the shit me and him rap about
~#**************#~
If you had ever made it out, but you aint never had the chance
~#**************#~
Uh, uh, circumstance
~#**************#~
Uh, uh, way of life
~#**************#~
Uh, uh, my decisions
~#**************#~
Uh, uh, made em right
~#**************#~
[Chorus]
~#**************#~
Chillin with the homies at the crib
~#**************#~
Bumpin Pac Div, this the life I live, you aint know about it
~#**************#~
Hit the studio with No I.D.
~#**************#~
Make a couple platinum records in that bitch and then I dip up out it
~#**************#~
On the 101, my wife text me
~#**************#~
Talkin bout, “You gotta get home, feed your son,” girl, dont trip about it
~#**************#~
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
~#**************#~
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, dont give me lip about it (Ayy, ayy)
~#**************#~
[Verse 2]
~#**************#~
Ive upgraded while they waited, will they love it, will they hate it?
~#**************#~
Who gives a fuck though?
~#**************#~
Rappers praying they next, this shit is cutthroat
~#**************#~
Im livin on another planet
~#**************#~
My manic depression make me constantly wanna panic
~#**************#~
Im stressing on stage, pretendin everybody undressing
~#**************#~
I think Ill never learn my lesson, but fuck it all, it doesnt matter
~#**************#~
Ayo, Im on a lyrical, poetic rhetoric
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Lyrical miracle, satirical shit
~#**************#~
If you dont like my conscious rap, you wont like my material shit
~#**************#~
Love him or hate him, everybody know Logic can spit
~#**************#~
Used to be up to date on that rap political shit
~#**************#~
But nowadays Im up to my elbows
~#**************#~
And every single inch of my body in my babys shit
~#**************#~
I could tell you more about diapers than modern rappers in cyphers
~#**************#~
I used to be about the B-Rabbits and Mekhi Phifers
~#**************#~
Hit the stage, grip the mic and murder you like a pro-lifer
~#**************#~
But Im done now, I got a son now
~#**************#~
Fuck the rap game, Im done now
~#**************#~
[Chorus]
~#**************#~
Chillin with the homies at the crib
~#**************#~
Bumpin Pac Div, this the life I live, you aint know about it
~#**************#~
Hit the studio with No I.D.
~#**************#~
Make a couple platinum records in that bitch and then I dip up out it
~#**************#~
On the 101, my wife text me
~#**************#~
Talkin bout, “You gotta get home, feed your son,” girl, dont trip about it
~#**************#~
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
~#**************#~
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, dont give me lip about it
~#**************#~
[Verse 3]
~#**************#~
They say that that boy done changed
~#**************#~
He dont rap about his everyday life, he aint the same
~#**************#~
Goddamn, already had a hard life once
~#**************#~
Am I supposed to recreate it every album for you cunts? Okay
~#**************#~
You want to hear about my everyday
~#**************#~
I wake up, I wake my son up, then I feed him
~#**************#~
And lead him into his car seat
~#**************#~
Drive up the street down to Target
~#**************#~
Dont do hard drugs or beat my wife
~#**************#~
But the paparazzi still wanna start shit
~#**************#~
I dont answer their questions, I leave em in the dark, bitch
~#**************#~
Then I walk through the automatic doors
~#**************#~
A couple fans spot me but, shit, I aint on tour
~#**************#~
I aint trying to ignore her
~#**************#~
But I head to aisle four cause my drawers stank as fuck
~#**************#~
And I need some new drawers
~#**************#~
Then I spot some more fans, stan hella hardcore (Can I have a picture?)
~#**************#~
Asking for a pic and I say sure
~#**************#~
Scratch my dick and shake his hand
~#**************#~
Shaking uncontrollably, he tells me Im the man
~#**************#~
Now Im headed to aisle three for some Bounty paper towels
~#**************#~
I also grab some wet wipes to clean the shit from my bowels
~#**************#~
A really hot girl walks by with a fat ass
~#**************#~
But Im just wondering if Hefty really holds the most trash
~#**************#~
Forgot my card at home, thank God I brought some cash
~#**************#~
Then I grab some Preparation H for the critics up my ass
~#**************#~
Head to aisle five for some Sgt. Smash cereal
~#**************#~
Is this want you wanted, everyday life material?
~#**************#~
Im not a kid anymore and be sure shits boring
~#**************#~
Made it out the basement, now my bank account soaring
~#**************#~
Most exciting part of my life is probably touring
~#**************#~
Dont get me wrong, I love fans in every single city
~#**************#~
But hotels suck and the internet is shitty
~#**************#~
I mean, why rap about everyday shit
~#**************#~
When I could murder punch lines and sound dope like this?
~#**************#~
[Chorus]
~#**************#~
Chillin with the homies at the crib
~#**************#~
Bumpin Pac Div, this the life I live, you aint know about it
~#**************#~
Hit the studio with No I.D.
~#**************#~
Make a couple platinum records in that bitch and then I dip up out it
~#**************#~
On the 101, my wife text me
~#**************#~
Talkin bout, “You gotta get home, feed your son,” girl, dont trip about it
~#**************#~
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
~#**************#~
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, dont give me lip about it
~#**************#~
[Outro]
~#**************#~
Hello, no one is available to take your call
~#**************#~
Please leave a message after the tone
~#**************#~
Bro, call me back
~#**************#~
We couldnt get the fuckin Super **** sample cleared again, so fuckin annoying, bro
~#**************#~
But honestly, I just say that we chop up the Toro y Moi joint
~#**************#~
That we were gonna put on Ultra 85
~#**************#~
And just like flip, fuckin freak the shit outta that joint
~#**************#~
I think it could be crazy
~#**************#~
Call me back, Ima chop it up on the MPC
~#**************#~
Here I go
