Louis Logic - Who the f** Are You? lyrics

[Sample: ?] Who are you? Who am I? I'm Lou. Who the f** are you? [Intro: Louis Logic] Yeah, check it out, my man Cimer Amor on the boards This is your tour guide, Louie Logic, fasten your seatbelts [Verse 1: Louis Logic] I start beef on dark streets, cursing the transients Take your pick of your latest whip, hearse or an ambulance Cause I'm a scientist to the rescue Who wish to infect you with contaminants from a test tube I pop up on the scene unexpectedly All up in your city like teen mother pregnancy Fiends love my tendency to serve dope Cause I mesh with rap like a pimp in feathered hats & a fur coat Curtains closed, I'm a cop like Serpico Who'll lock you up in fresh wears and let you go in dirty clothes I'm naked, wear my words exposed Disturbing folks performing bourbon-soaked at suburban shows Alert the pope and you better call a doctor I'm going off my rocker when I chug a quart of vodka And just before the cops come I'll face a hundred dudes Like, "I'm Louis Logic, who the f** are you?" [Scratched Samples] "Who the f** are you?" {?} [Verse Two] Plain and simple, ordinary Jack's ain't as nimble Plus you lack the sack if your main veins are thimble I hang my head over the pane of windows Throwing up like, L.A. gang signs or graf paint in scribbles Blowing up's a far stretch, with indie B-sides I'm hard pressed for a free ride like car theft I'm a hard head; I gotta chill with Joe Camel And stick with the liqs like a hick in old flannel The contradiction in terms, to y'all n***as spitting a verse? Is like me smiling while I flip you the bird I'm mister disturbed and doctor depression I got an obsession for seeing police officers stressing And catching a deepthroating actress Who knows gymnastics And s**s the lubricant off of prophylactics The facts is, I specialize in crushing brews I'm Louis Logic n***a, who the f** are you? [Verse 3: Louis Logic] I create new constructs of lewd conduct Something similar to {Luke on dust?} The faint of heart want to puke on us, my cohorts are so sick You're sold short sleeping [and?] your futon [rusts?] We throw bricks cause we building, not a lack of sk** Fake cats make a k**ing in the actor's guild I got a gla** to fill with beer, sipping while I'm still in gear Whipping a black Cadillac Seville n***as asking, "Is this cat for real?" sh**, I'm swallowing some Advil pills with a flask that's filled As a meal, I'm a shoe-in, when it comes to spewing confusion Over-achiever, working on improving my boozing If you think that that's funny, a drug dealer Tried to buy my single DAT from me with some crack money Sonny, my style is new plus improved Cause I'm Louis Logic, who the f** are you?