Pardon My Ego

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Logic

Logic (from the Ancient Greek: λογική, translit. logikḗ), originally meaning "the word" or "what is spoken", but coming to mean "thought" or "reason", is a subject concerned with the most general laws of truth, and is now generally held to consist of the systematic study of the form of valid inference. A valid inference is one where there is a specific relation of logical support between the assumptions of the inference and its conclusion. (In ordinary discourse, inferences may be signified by words such as therefore, hence, ergo, and so on.) There is no universal agreement as to the exact scope and subject matter of logic (see § Rival conceptions, below), but it has traditionally included the classification of arguments, the systematic exposition of the 'log… more »

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Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh, ah, uh, uh)
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh)

Skinny Nikki geeky, gettin' brain dead, uh
I don't give a f*ck what the lames say, uh
Old girl wanna give the boy head
How 'bout a little bitty self-love instead?
I can't f*ck a ho, I'd rather self-love instead
Can't save a ho, no S on my chest, or gun to my head (ah)
Get the bread (ah), get the bread (ah)
Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread, uh
I ain't just tryna get a nut off
Bobby Boy be quick to leave a bad bitch cut off
Like when you in the studio and the vocal get cut

Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh, ah, uh, uh)
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh)

Like (ah)
Get the bread (ah), get the bread (ah)
Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread

I'm feelin' like Kid Cudi
A little crazy, but tell me, what genius ain't a little nutty?
Everybody be like that sometimes
You can hear it in me in some rhymes
I ain't bipolar, Kanye make me wish I was
'Cause that level of genius the meanest
Nobody fuckin' around with that flow
When I spit it, you know it's the cleanest, uh
All my haters can suck my penis
Went from five hundred a show to sellin' out arenas
From SOB's in NYC
To smokin' trees at the motherfuckin' Garden
Pardon my ego, uh
Maybe it's the weed smoke
Maybe it's the beat though
If I draw it in the sand
Better not cross the line like a free throw, uh

Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh, ah, uh, uh)
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh)

Like (ah)
Get the bread (ah), get the bread (ah)
Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread

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