Rza - Capital Freestyle lyrics

[Intro: Tim Westwood] Yo it's Tim Westwood TV Going back in with my man Logic From the crib, to Capital Xtra Let's go fam! [Logic] Alright, oh man I'mma f** this up, here we go Check, ch-check, ch-check yeah, yeah, yeah Okay, now take a trip inside my mind like you was off to Venice It's me and B-I-G L-N-B-O cooking like chemists Take them back to way back when like Dennis, The Menace Causing mayhem on the come up like a young apprentice Smoking weed and getting higher than a flight attendant Hip-hop descendant, gold Jesus on my pendant Got to pull it out for everyone that's in attendance Okay, back in the day as a College Park tenant Still can't believe I didn't get a shorty pregnant Man, that's the definition of a life sentence A whole lot of beef, no bread, no lettuce Cause I couldn't keep it in my briefs, man that's pathetic f** all that back and forth, this ain't a game of tennis I'll be in my mothaf**in' chamber like the senate Scared to go outside but I know I can't prevent it I'm, forever alone in my mind See I'm a self diagnosed hypochondriac Either at the crib, or on the tour bus is where you'll find me at I swear that I got it, yes I got it over here But I swear that I'm not that neurotic over here Check it, s'over here check it, s'over here tougher, s'over here check it I said tougher than raw denim, my flow you can't identify Talib said it best back in the day, we just tryna get by Two words, Mos Def, in my headphones Black on one side, now I'm in another zone Switch flows, f** 'em up Play the game, run 'em up Yeah I sold a couple records but people don't give a f** All the people want is real Guess that's why Logic appeal Hold up tell me how that feel, holdie to the Racism on television and in magazines Paying taxes so soldiers don't run out of magazines, god damn Country don't give a f** who I am Just a youngin' on the rise with a mic in my hand Check it, yeah, so check it, so check it I gotta spit it, gotta rip it, I gotta keep it goin' I'm flowin' strictly off of the top of the dome, they knowin', can I get it? The L-O-G-I-C I'm reppin' M-D I said it once I said it twince, I gotta check it yeah I know something is wrong I know something is wrong I know something is wrong I can tell in this song I'm feeling hella faded No I never evade it The second I get it I spit it, I rip it, I gotta do it yeah We on and on, we on this Westwood Feelin' hella good Jumped across the pond Word is born when I spit it Let this motherf**er drop the bomb sh** is hella crazy, we out in London, where we come from This is how we do it, get it done yeah and then some What you call me? They know the name, I gotta spit the game This is how we do it, Visionary Music Group All the day, V's up Plus that Def Jam, I know who I am I'm the motherf**ing man, God damn yes it's Logic Cool, I'm feeling good with that Swag