Clouds (Feat. Langston Bristol, Curren$y)

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 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 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 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 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