Listen to Under Pressure by Logic

Under Pressure

Logic

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Logic
Logic
Vocals
Tom Lea
Tom Lea
Viola
Kevin Randolph
Kevin Randolph
Piano
Ill Camille
Ill Camille
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robert Mellin
Robert Mellin
Songwriter
Guy Wood
Guy Wood
Songwriter
Andre Romell Young
Andre Romell Young
Songwriter
George Clinton
George Clinton
Songwriter
Lorenzo Patterson
Lorenzo Patterson
Songwriter
Abrim Tilmon
Abrim Tilmon
Songwriter
Bernie Worrell
Bernie Worrell
Songwriter
Eric Wright
Eric Wright
Songwriter
Rob Kinelski
Rob Kinelski
Songwriter
Steve Wyreman
Steve Wyreman
Songwriter
William Earl Collins
William Earl Collins
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Logic
Logic
Producer
Steve Wyreman
Steve Wyreman
Additional Producer
Rob Kinelski
Rob Kinelski
Additional Producer
6ix
6ix
Additional Producer
Bobby Campbell
Bobby Campbell
Mixing Engineer
C-Sick
C-Sick
Additional Producer
Casey Cuayo
Casey Cuayo
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Work so fucking much my greatest fear is I'mma die alone Every diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone People calling me, asking me for money, man The only thing I'mma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone Flashbacks of a youngin' sipping that purple Kool Aid Skipping school with my homies and chiefing reefer for two days Running from the law, living how I'm living, fuck 'em all Bumping Triple Six Hennessy in my cup, driving through the sticks Who the bitch riding with me? Man, the devil tryna get me Motivated, under-educated, and hated But finally getting cake like a happy belated Bitch I made it, we on Buy it, break it, roll it, light it, smoke it, inhale it Write it, record it, mix it, master it, press it up, unveil it Feel like I've been waiting forever, forever to inherit This is war, I declare it Time is money, I can't spare it Futuristic, so simplistic Please decipher my linguistics Slow it down, Robitussin I'm the king, ain't no discussion And now we blowing up like spontaneous human combustion My consumption is the illest Section eight, I know you feel this On the come up, where they run up on you for nothing at all Brighter than eleven suns, this the first, where my funds? EBT, that's the card I thank God, I thank God, but it's hard, but it's hard Work so fucking much my greates fear is imma die alone Every diamond in my chain yeah thats a milestone People calling me asking me for money man The only thing imma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone God damn, god damn, we at it again Me and my homies that know me blowing up like the Taliban Yeah, my stress up, but I'm blessed up Fuck around and get messed up When I murder the rhyme, I'm living divine You know that I'm one of a kind Lemme get it right now, ho Draped up and I'm dripped out, right now, ho Caked up 'til I cash out and I got 'em all wondering how, so On the down low, haters drown slow On the down low, haters drown slow Oh God, my God, we got it all right Oh God, my God, we gotta get it, right? These fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right? I said these fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right? Tell me that they love me, know damn well that they don't give a fuck I be on that finger flipping killing shit up in the cut That's what's up All these bitches out here tryna gas it up This is everything I ever wanted, I can't pass it up Life changed in a year, couldn't happen fast enough "Can I do it like you do it?" That's what they be asking us White Benz, black card, bitch better get your plastic up Man, this shit is hella hard, but we never acting up Live it up, hold on to your dream, don't ever give it up Finally had my share of success, and shit, I can't get enough Now they know my name through the nation Cause my single like that good shit, man, always in rotation Now they know Logic for Logic, not through my affiliations Stacking profit on profit, from this music I'm making Even Jesus had haters, so when you feeling forsaken Tell 'em jealous Judas is who this is, and man, that'll break 'em And bitch I'm still the same Dash of auto tune so y'all can feel the pain Broke as fuck, back in that basement, not a dollar to my name Chasing fame, chasing glory, 'til the day we make a story Positive that life ain't mine, bitch you can take that shit to Maury Work so fucking much my greates fear is imma die alone Every diamond in my chain yeah thats a milestone People calling me asking me for money man The only thing imma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone (Hello, no one is available to take your call) I been working hard, I been searching for God I been working hard, I been searching for God (Please leave a message after the tone) Little brother, this is your sister, you're busy, I get you But I insist you call me back cause I miss you I wish you well, well, I wish you would call Cause lately you feel like I'm just not your sister at all, all I'm sorry for calling and balling, I'm all in And I feel like I'm falling lately, it feel like my children hate me You tell me I'm beautiful and yet no man wanna date me Haunted by vivid memories of that man who raped me And lately I, I feel more like mommy, I know I'm me, but still You always seemed to pick up the phone and somehow I feel Better, but you been answering me lesser and lesser So I resorted to the pills in my dresser, I'm gone As as for he left and he ain't coming back I hate the man, if I see him I swear I tell him that No longer cooking crack in my kitchen, cutting, selling that He broke my heart, that relationship been to hell and back I been working hard, I been searching for God I can feel the Devil around me as they all applaud Promise you won't forget me, that you'll always be with me And even when you gone I can call whenever he hit me Under pressure, I've been feeling under pressure Hey, son, this is your father, don't mean to bother How are you? Heard you were in town, but I never saw ya Tried to call ya, where are ya? And Paris, what a beautiful destination And perish right by the Eiffel, come now, please don't be spiteful Of all my small talk, I think we're overdue a long talk When I see kids around the way I say "hey, I'm your dad" It gets me thinking of incredible moments we've had And on the real I'm trying so hard not to bug you But do you think you could stop rapping about my drug use? I'm two years clean, no longer a fiend Yeah, I'm 57, but I feel 19 And I love you I swear, Bobby, I know you're there And when the time is right I know that you gon' take care Of anything I need, of your family Can I have some tickets to your next show? Would you stand with me? Can I have some money for my new honey that's hella fine? I forgot to mention I got divorced from your step-mom My mind going crazy, but I still look hella calm Maybe you could tell beep I've been feeling under pressure Hey, what's up, bro? I didn't want much, man, just calling to see what's going on I know you're busy Dad hit me up, it's his birthday today, but I know you know that Yeah, he calling, he be tryna introduce me to his new chick and stuff, man, I don't know how to handle that I don't wanna tell him like nah, I ain't trying to meet her off top, you know So what you think I should do? Text me, I know you're busy, dawg But he been calling me saying he wanna come down, he wanna bring his new chick and Brenda's like "Damn, he really tryna rock out with his new chick" Cause you know we all talk to Debbie But I don't know, I don't know how to tell him this shit so Just hit me back whenever you got the time, man I know there's more shit on your plate You ain't gotta hit me, dawg, but if you do I'd appreciate it When you back, love you, do your thing Swag RattPack all day, boy Alright, nigga Yeah, dear family, I'm so sorry that I've been distant Everything changed in an instant, my time has been inconsistent I know that you been insisting, I know that birthday I missed it I swore I told my assistant, but I guess my mind is in another place Thoughts often in another world, I started seeing another girl It fell through, man, what a world But I'm so focused on my craft, on employing my staff Such a perfectionist, I can't even finish this draft This letter to the ones I love, the ones that I miss Brothers and sisters that hit me up just to reminisce Meanwhile people outside of my blood asking for favors I don't owe you a fucking thing, you best switch your behavior Truly remarkable how I barely know you, but somehow owe you When you don't even know 'bout the shit I go through We ain't spoken in a while, tell me sister, how your child? Come now, girl, give me a smile, come on, girl, don't do me foul Sorry I ain't call before, but I'm calling you right now I heard that you was popping E, stop resorting to the vile How my mama, how she doing, does she know what I'm pursuing? I ain't talk to her in years, that relationship she ruined But sometimes I wake and wonder just what the fuck I'm doing They say family is everything, I swear that shit the truth I should spend it all with y'all, but I spend it in the booth This is everything I love, this is everything I need Never sacrifice this feeling even though my heart it bleed This is everything I love, everything I need Never sacrifice this feeling even though my heart bleed Under pressure, I've been feeling under pressure Hey, son, I'm sorry I missed your call today, but I was in an AA meeting A friend of mine was celebrating four years so I couldn't get you right then And then when I called you wouldn't even answer or whatever Just wondering how things are going Jenn and I aren't together anymore Living on my own, you know Anyway, the whole family, even the ones you don't know My sister, some of your aunts that you've never met are very proud of you. Your cousins just love you too. Anyway, son, I love you, I just want you to know that. And just keep grinding, you know. And I don't wanna hear you joining the Illuminati. Then I gotta jail you out. I love you, son. So
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Lorenzo Jerald Patterson, William Earl Collins, Eric Wright, Abrim Jr. Tilmon, Guy B. Wood, George Jr. Clinton, Steve Wyreman, Bernard G. Jr. Worrell, Robert Bryson Hall Ii, Robert Mellin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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