[Verse 1 - Tone]
I snap wack rappers in half like they was a stack of crackers
Till the animals they're crafted after, be laughing at ya
Blasting ya bastards, cause it's for certain
Your skills are a figment of your imagination like Tyler Durden
[Logic V1-B]
Whatever happened to qualified lines written down with mental quality
I renamed your style pet-peeve because your shit just fuckin bothers me
Don't bother coming back, with your weak thoughts, I'm outta body
I ripped em outta your skull with my one-handed lobotomy
[Tone V1-C]
Here's an affirmation, I'm leaving your ass thrashed with lacerations
Voraciously masticating, you waste half of your dates while masturbating
Placing your severed in front of an assassination station
So that day to day you'll Face decapitation
[Logic V1-D]
You can't stop, top me, or even rock me
I don't believe in fuckin' crews, I even beat the guy who brought me
You stop me? Now that's some shit that fucking shocks me
Send your girl to ride my dick, cause that'll be the only way you'll top me,
You got me?
[Verse 2 - Logic]
My dick's bigger than Mandingo, I swing with a fandango
Banged a one-legged retarded bitch in a Durango, just to catch a different angle
Angles angel different in competition, exposing your styling all bare
Cause even your shittiest flows has got your rhymes running scared
Sometimes I can't bear to witness the multitude of mediocrity
Running repetitive schemes making hip-hop a total mockery
But awkwardly, I welcome the weak when they're all coming
Cause in competition, I house more niggas than if my name was Mr. Drummond
[Tone V2-B]
Can I take you out? Probably
Make you take wrong turns like when Whitney decided to marry Bobby
You'll get hooked up, then get fucked early like girls that fornicate
I come off like loose promotional stickers on porno tapes
The head to coronate
With flows so organic that plants are green with envy, just how the hell you
Think they chlorinate
No chemicals needed to formulate
Challenging calendars to tic-tac-toe's the only way that you can score a date
[Verse 3 - Logic]
I hear you crying with pleading, but your times up like a lease
What? Jealous cause I move crowds like Riot Police?
Bitch, stay at ease, and back off my mic please
Cause you seem to be giving my beat some kind of fucking disease
You trying to step to me? Like you're the main feature?
Like bad audio email, I'll ignore ya and delete ya
Then I'll beat ya, I mean, like, Just BEAT ya and defeat ya
In front of your friends and family watching helpless from the bleachers
Yea, I spoke to all your teachers, went over your notes in your pad
And The part where you were speechless... best rap that you had
I wanted to respond, I just didn't hear what you said
Rhymes with expiration dates on em, I mean, your shit is so dead
That in the middle of a battle, in your rhyme deliberation
You're gonna need that kid from 6th Sense for translation
Now, follow these directions, go to your rhyme at the top
Switch to delete, cause you're a bitch
[Tone V3-B]
To grasp fame you clutch performers
You gotta take scissors to almanacs of your street to cut corners
Weak MCs on my lunch order
In the winter you bitches lips are my certified nut-warmers
The oral emancipator, Formative rants that paved the way
For an advance decay of exorbitant wack pervaders
Through attacks for haters, Flows are the active agents
Blindfolded fast breaks just to show you horrible stats later
There's no surprise here
I'm Tonedeff but with fully functional fingers, tongue, and nose, eyes... ears
Like college kids buy beer, it's a given
That nobody else can flip it when Logic & Tone is rippin
Assaulting your bitch to hit the shit with ease
I'm rocking it HART, never skipping a beat
Even when I sneeze, with no FEAR of amateurs
I'm prepping the pop world for combat like giving Britney Spears in Africa
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