I diznitavitches for these biznitavitches, you know what I'm sayin'?

You better take a piznitavicture of mother fuckin' Logic

When I'm spittin' scripture, nigga



I'm the sickest Sigman Froyd, boy, who sees his profession

As an evil means of aggression that'll leave you kids destroyed

I love to feed 'em a question that deseives their deception

That leads to depression by the time they leave from the session

You easily threatened with a lack of self-esteem

It's cause you always see me on the M.I.C. like Kelly Green

Now these jelous fiends tellin' me I'm racist and I hate the Irish

Wait til I spit on a track right next to Seamus Ryan

You can take the privates out my pants and try to deepthroat

So far you wrap your lips around my nuts until you eat both

Cause y'all chippin' like you trippin' down a ski slope

In a grease soaked fleece coat butted by a mean goat

Each quote by hip-hop's favourite freak show

Creep goes in the what not to section of police code

Please don't try to fight with me like beans and cornbread

I would like to see to it that your dead

And I ain't gonna rain your parade, I'll piss right on your doorstep

Til the boards' spread on the door frame and the floors wet

Come back to your front porch steps for one more threat

And some poor schlep will get a lumped forehead



[Chorus:]

Come on Lou, this type of talk should be against the law

Just gimme more, y'all sissy's are just insecure

But isn't your pops an ex-cop from in the force?

Man, it doesn't change the fact that I'm immature

I'm in war in y'all basements, plus cellars

Kickin' in your door like what's up fellas

So I doesn't have to trust selfish critics if the fans says its dope

Your just jelous, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke



I'm like a swami, they way I'm memorizin' mami's

But instead of underneath, I rather have them restin' on my palm tree

I'm an advocate of master resistance

Bastard stepson of Ghandi that's here to kick the ass of this business

First up on the list is, the pacifict bitches

That crap in their britches when they get served up with a fist

Pull the skirt up on a bitch rapper a bit faster

Than a perverted catholic pastor

Well, what do you know? Look who's mad again

Scribblin' raps with a viagra pen

That doesn't write just to spite the vatican

I'm an antonym for weak, I can't begin to speak

On my phantom life as anti-christ of the industry

I'm out in the streets causin' confusion and mayhem

And usually stay bent, PM through to the AM

I got loose in my play pen and started breakin' shit

I'm your favourite kid no one wants to babysit

I built a career on makin' atheists pray then hit the church pues

Christians commit sins and say that it's a virtue

Does that disturb you, you spaz I'm suppose to

I'm the naughty little devil talkin' trash on your shoulder



[Chorus]



Ahhh, Cocksucker mother fucker 2-Ball bitch

You probably spank your monkey to a RuPaul flick

Ya sick freaks, probably let your shit sqeeze in your trunks

Stick your hands up in your pants and start eatin' the lumps

You probably have sex with a cow, spread the legs out

With a wide open pie-hole and dive ya head down

You're as gross as spreadin' mentral blood on toast

And dumb enough to fuck a fat chick in the butt and then boast

You creatons, fuckin' creatons

Ya heathens don't derverve to be breathin'

Fuck you and everything you stand for

Fuck you I hope you get spanked by your landlord

Bitch, you know what I'm sayin'?

This is Lenard Logic aka Larry Lethargic

You know what I'm sayin'? Niggaz know

And if they don't they get fucked quicker than giggalo's diggin' hoes

Pick your nose you bitchy flowed mother fuckin' pussies

Yeah, suck a dick