"Gunslinger" lyrics
Yeah, yeah
Just let it rock for a second
Hey, uh, ayo
My gun ready
Turn your brain into confetti
Walk in the saloon and get marooned in a hooker's womb
Unforgiven with the liquor I'm sippin'
I'm robbin' town banks for a livin' and givin' 'em hell
I'll probably hang come high noon
But it's eight PM at the brothel and I'll be high soon
Sci-fi flow like I'm bringin' the force back
But it's 1861, I'm travelin' on horseback
Pass the mic and I'ma torch that
My daddy was a farmer and my mother was an outlaw
You was in the cut, we was out far
Montana like Tony with the pony and a Gatling gun
Rappin' for fun maybe for some, but not for me, none
I'm musically schizophrenic, imagination no limit
You want it, come and get it, come get it
Lyrically speakin' of course, 'less you bring it to my porch
Then I'ma blow your brains out in your good clothes
No, you can't get none of the stains out
I switch characters like I switch flows
My wrist gold, I get blowed
I'm on one, the armed one
The gunslinger, one minute I'm Logic
Then the next I'm off the topic
A different person is worse than the one runnin' your pocket
You rappers more synthetic than Ex Machina
My .45 just like a bad bitch, I always keep the cock in her, no stoppin' us
Wasn't there before, but now feel like everyone poppin' up
Wasn't rap enough, wasn't pop enough
I could give a fuck, think I had enough of this stuff
I'm the gunslinger comin' correct and rough
What's up?
Just let it rock for a second
Hey, uh, ayo
My gun ready
Turn your brain into confetti
Walk in the saloon and get marooned in a hooker's womb
Unforgiven with the liquor I'm sippin'
I'm robbin' town banks for a livin' and givin' 'em hell
I'll probably hang come high noon
But it's eight PM at the brothel and I'll be high soon
Sci-fi flow like I'm bringin' the force back
But it's 1861, I'm travelin' on horseback
Pass the mic and I'ma torch that
My daddy was a farmer and my mother was an outlaw
You was in the cut, we was out far
Montana like Tony with the pony and a Gatling gun
Rappin' for fun maybe for some, but not for me, none
I'm musically schizophrenic, imagination no limit
You want it, come and get it, come get it
Lyrically speakin' of course, 'less you bring it to my porch
Then I'ma blow your brains out in your good clothes
No, you can't get none of the stains out
I switch characters like I switch flows
My wrist gold, I get blowed
I'm on one, the armed one
The gunslinger, one minute I'm Logic
Then the next I'm off the topic
A different person is worse than the one runnin' your pocket
You rappers more synthetic than Ex Machina
My .45 just like a bad bitch, I always keep the cock in her, no stoppin' us
Wasn't there before, but now feel like everyone poppin' up
Wasn't rap enough, wasn't pop enough
I could give a fuck, think I had enough of this stuff
I'm the gunslinger comin' correct and rough
What's up?
