The Gauntlet
[Verse 1: Logic]
Uh
Now who the f**k am I to say that you won’t ever make it?
But the way that you rap, the people just won’t ever take it
I don’t understand why you think you finna live it up
Like a honey on prom night, give it up
There ain’t no way you ‘gon make it man, you need to conform
Stop everything you doin’, start rappin’, and still perform
You think that you really can record then go and perform
All the stupid lyrical sh*t that you been doin?
Think twice, boy, you never had a shot wit it
Go tighten up your game, Botox wit it
‘Cause we all know, I’m your worst critic
So what you need to do, you need to do wit it
Is stop, drop, roll out and forget it
‘Cause like I said, all those people, they won’t ever ever get it
So listen up man, stop in yo’ tracks
Stop droppin’ tracks and just relax
Now who the f**k am I to say that you wrong, my man?
But it’s untouchable, they way I devise the plan
‘Cause when I’m on it, I’m on it, and homie I ain’t playin’
50/50 like a Gin and Tonic, y’know I’m sayin?
Half emcee, other half listener
Half capturer, and half prisoner
They sh*t [?] homie, my sh*t primo flow celsius and y’all twenty below
[Verse 2: Redlineres]
Look, I’m all about passin’, I ain’t got no time to fail
Fellin’ my wrath every time when I spit this hell (yeah)
You a fraud nigga (uh)
You stop playin’ or your life gonna get you in the box, in jail
It ain’t nothing harder than the balls (nah)
My passion and every day will get me far
And no time for real, no time for lames
Start drinkin’ the liquor straight so it can take the pain
I’m on the red line reminiscing on the train
Think positive, and every day, just maintain
You know?
[Verse 3: J-Artz]
Uh, Mr. Johnson, all-star Stockton
Got a couple golden guns, devil hellmarksman
A double kill is needed to prove the skill
Got the eyes out flow, no radar low
I’m a black ho, no escape, let’s go
To the edge of the universe, homie let’s roll
You’re a [?] perfect one, blind spot
[?], blind spot
Metal [?] inject, call me a robojock
Never seen for [?], ’cause I’m [?]
Space travel with no ship, techless
I’m naturally superior to other stage dwellers
Sneak attack, body bag, beacon [?], Goodfella
D.C. clash with this, others can’t [?] with it
Got the [?] force, welcome to the dark abyss
[Verse 4: Steph]
Caught up in a secret society
And the money just ease my anxiety
‘Cause I know, I don’t talk to the lord (uh)
My heart dark for having to endorse such
Pain as youngin’ so to numb it I sip lean
Let the weed fill up my lungs, and pop champagne
‘Til I get sick stomach, just disgusting what we do for a lil’ money
They say, “You gotta change your ways, ’cause the Lord’s comin'”
And I just gotta get paid, the landlord comin’
So I’m like, “Forget God, just cut my check”
Just like a Nike sweatshirt (uh)
Caught up in the rapture, fashion and swagger
Snapback, award shows sharper than a dagger
Polo sweater made the same year that I was born
And hand on the bible to the [?] I was sworn in
