Letra de Whats My Name
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(What’s my name?!)
Illogic and it’s obvious to most that I’m a ghost until it’s time for you to see me hit the stage
These parasites are looking for a host but I’m immune to your abuse and I blessed to be the best on every page
Illogic and it’s obvious to most that I’m a ghost until it’s time for you to see me hit the stage
These parasites are looking for a host but I’m immune to your abuse and I blessed to be the best on every page
I’m made to brag, I got a goodie bag that’s full of treats for all to eat
Defeat is in the truth, I speak for those that want it
I’m hungry, even if I didn’t want to eat, I gotta keep chewing the weak like it’s a tapeworm in my stomach
Raised on the Columbus streets, Eastmound by Miller
Weightless got my back and we don’t get no thicker
Greenhouse got my back and we don’t get no sicker
Ill Po got my back and we don’t, now check it
I’m gangsta like Bob Marley, Malcolm, Chuck D and Marcus Garvey when I’m in the booth, you gotta respect
FBI on you for moving keys to the youth
Tapping my phone and tailing me ‘cause I move truth on record
(What’s my name?!)
Illogic and I rightfully deserve all of the accolades that come with being placed up on a pedestal
And to the stationary, I take liberty with statues
Pledge allegiance to rock, orchestra picked the vestibule
Let this be a lesson to the rest of you
It’s better to ensure that you’re the greatest whether analog or digital
‘cause if you’re hating, take into consideration also that my scratch vocals make whole catalogs minuscule
After all, pride springs before summer fall
Some’ll fall just because it ain’t the season for the sound
Crowd’s fine, I’m like a pine
Saw metaphors, four seasons, 365, Columbus alive year round
Now it’s been a lot of talk of falling off
And it’s been said that I’m so close to the edge it’s time to leap
Time to speak to the sleepwalkers, counting sheep, no end in sight
With a mic, I’m nice, bending light seven days in a week
Defeat is in the truth, I speak for those that want it
I’m hungry, even if I didn’t want to eat, I gotta keep chewing the weak like it’s a tapeworm in my stomach
Raised on the Columbus streets, Eastmound by Miller
Weightless got my back and we don’t get no thicker
Greenhouse got my back and we don’t get no sicker
Ill Po got my back and we don’t, now check it
I’m gangsta like Bob Marley, Malcolm, Chuck D and Marcus Garvey when I’m in the booth, you gotta respect
FBI on you for moving keys to the youth
Tapping my phone and tailing me ‘cause I move truth on record
(What’s my name?!)
Illogic and I rightfully deserve all of the accolades that come with being placed up on a pedestal
And to the stationary, I take liberty with statues
Pledge allegiance to rock, orchestra picked the vestibule
Let this be a lesson to the rest of you
It’s better to ensure that you’re the greatest whether analog or digital
‘cause if you’re hating, take into consideration also that my scratch vocals make whole catalogs minuscule
After all, pride springs before summer fall
Some’ll fall just because it ain’t the season for the sound
Crowd’s fine, I’m like a pine
Saw metaphors, four seasons, 365, Columbus alive year round
Now it’s been a lot of talk of falling off
And it’s been said that I’m so close to the edge it’s time to leap
Time to speak to the sleepwalkers, counting sheep, no end in sight
With a mic, I’m nice, bending light seven days in a week
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