Coverafbeelding Logic ft. Eminem - Homicide
  • Statistieken
  •   5 wkn Tipparade
  •   2019

Artiestinformatie

Geboortedatum   22-01-1990
Land   Verenigde Staten

Sir Robert Bryson Hall groeide op als kind van verslaafde ouders en begon als puber al te rappen. Later krijgt hij stapels met beats om zijjn raps op te schrijven. Dat doet hij dan nog als Psychological, waarmee hij later als openingsact mag optreden voor namen als Pitbull, Method Man en Ludacris. Eind 2010 brengt hij, als Logic, zijn eerste mixtape uit. Ruim twee jaar later tekent hij een platencontract bij Def Jam, die hem mee laat gaan op tournee met Kid Cudi en Big Sean.


Op 11 februari 2014, zijn verjaardag, verschijnt zijn eerste single 24 Freestyle. In het najaar verschijnt zijn debuutalbum waarop er, opvallend, geen andere artiesten te horen zijn. De periode voor de release bracht hij juist wel nummers uit met Big Sean en Childish Gambino.


Net een jaar na de release van zijn debuut komt er met The Incredible True Storu op 13 november 2015 een tweede album. In 2016 werkt hij mee aan de soundtrack van Suicide Squad op de track Sucker For Pain. Zijn eerste eigen succes zien we in ons land in een samenwerking met Khalid en Alessia Cara op 1-800-273-8255.

In het voorjaar van 2019 maakt hij met Eminem de track Homicide.


Songtekst

Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
Why, dad?
Because you came out of my balls, nigga
Hahahahahaha

Fuck rap
Bustin' like an addict
With a semi-automatic
Who done had it
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Leave a suicide note
Fuck that
Bobby feelin' villainous
He killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady
And even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika
Slim Shady with rabies

I'm foamin' at the mouth
Ain't nobody takin' me out
Every single rapper in the industry
Yeah, they know what I'm about
And I dare you to test me
Cause not a single one
Of you motherfuckers impress me
And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration
But I'm full of innovation
And I'm tired of all of this
High school he's cool, he's not rap shit
Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap, shit
No, this ain't a diss to the game
It's a gas to the flame
Nowadays, everybody sound the same
Shit's lame
Like a moth to the flame
I'm a realer man, a killer
Know you feelin' lyricism
When I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself
Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy
He be feelin' himself
Mass murder like this
Can't be good for my health
When I rap like this
Do I sound like shit
Well, it don't really matter
Cause I'm killin' this shit
Yeah, I'm killin' this shit
Oh yeah, oh yeah
I'm killin' this shit
Bobby, how many times
You been killin' this shit
Find another rhyme
Goddamn, nigga, shit

Fuck rap
Bustin' like an addict
With a semi-automatic
Who done had it
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Leave a suicide note
Fuck that
Bobby feelin' villainous
He killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady
And even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

There's nowhere to hide
We call this shit genocide
Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do)
And they die
We gon' leave 'em crucified
We call this shit genocide
I got bitches, I got hoes
I got rare designer clothes
No, we ain't fuckin' with that
Yeah, there's a time and a place
But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps
Callin' yourself the greatest alive
Then you don't deserve to do that
No, no, oh no, no
Please do not do that
You gon' get smacked
You gon' make Bobby attack
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy)

Fuck rap
Bustin' like an addict
With a semi-automatic
Who done had it
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Leave a suicide note
Fuck that
Bobby feelin' villainous
He killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady
And even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady

Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything
Are getting washed, liga-liga-liga, like bathing
Young Hova, I know hitters like Yankees
Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy
Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover
Your body goes limp and slumps over
Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered
Hol' up, I said rover because now your Rover is red
Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant
But I roll over my opponents instead
Makin' dog sounds 'cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down
I'll go slow for the speds
But when I go roof like the dobermann said
I still think the roof would go over your head (Haha)
Beast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit
With so many foul lines, you'll think I'm a free throw
Figured it was about time for people to eat crow
You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned
I stay on my toes like the repo
A behemoth in sheep's clothes
From the East Coast to the West
I'm the ethos and I'm the GOAT
Who the best, I don't gotta say a fuckin' thing, though
Cause MC's know
But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts
Your shit is ass like a tailbone
Or you're trapped in your cell phone
Or my chicken scratch or my self-loathe
I don't want to fuckin' listen to you spit your raps
Someone else wrote
Used to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still
Now money's not a big deal
I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mill'
Big bills like a platypus
A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis
I'm lookin' for the smoke
But you motherfuckers are scatterin'
Batterin' everything
And I've had it with the inadequate
Man, I can see my dick is standin'
Stiff as a mannequin
And I'm bringin' the bandana back
And the fuckin' headband again
A handkerchief and I'm thinkin' of bringin'
The fuckin' fingerless gloves back
And not giving a singular fuck, like fuck rap
I sound like a fuckin' millionaire
With a Derringer with a hair trigger
'Bout to bear hug a fuckin' terrier
The Ric Flair dripper
Y'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil
When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct
I'm about to bare-knuckle it, nah, fuck it
I'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket
Abraca-fuckin'-dabra
The track is the blood, I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it
What, Dracula, fuck that shit
I'm up, back with a thud
Man, stop

Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' to
Do all this while ya panickin'
And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins
And I'm goin' to Fanagans
Trying to get up a plan against
All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans
While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana
You're in a cab...
I'm in a cabana and a Janet
I'm in a cabana chantin' all this standup banter
While you don't got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina
You're lackin' the stamina while you're divorcin' Harrison Ford
And I'm in a Porsche on the floorboards
While I'm world tourin'
You usin' way too many napkins, papkins
Lapkins and chapki...
You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin'
Flappin' around like a bapkin'
Flamminababbitapannitajampkin
Dammit, a can of pada...

Songinformatie

ArtiestLogic,
Eminem
 A-kant
Titel Homicide
Lengte 4:05
Componist(en) Dillan Beau Bailard · Donnell Stephens III · Jeremy Alexander Uribe · Luis Resto · Marshall Mathers · Sir Robert Bryson Hall II · Tim Schoegje
Producer(s) Shroom, Bregma
 B-kant
Platenlabel Def Jam Recordings
Catalogusnr digital download
Releasedatum 03-05-2019
Hoogste positie UK 15
Hoogste positie US 5


Positieverloop