Music Video

Logic - VINYL DAYS ft. DJ Premier (Lyrics)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Logic
Logic
Vocals
Charles Bernstein
Charles Bernstein
Sampled Artist
DJ Premier
DJ Premier
Scratches
Gang Starr
Gang Starr
Sampled Artist
Joey Bada$$
Joey Bada$$
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Songwriter
Arjun Ivatury
Arjun Ivatury
Songwriter
Chris Martin
Chris Martin
Songwriter
Charles Bernstein
Charles Bernstein
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
6ix
6ix
Producer
Kyle Metcalfe
Kyle Metcalfe
Recording Engineer
Robert Campbell
Robert Campbell
Mixing Engineer
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah-yeah, yeah Vinyl Days, DJ Premier That's my homie, that's my idol On the road to success but you're idle 6ix on the beat, RattPack, motherfucker, let's go Here we go, let's get it all All I need is one mic, one pen, one page to ignite Subject matter heavy but the flow is MC Lyte You mad as fuck, all you see is red like a conservative All the critics do is talk, I'm really not concerned with it Hella tired and we can make your residency permanent Several shots, they tyin' up your body with a tourniquet Let it rock, it's obvious that he don't know who turn it is Keep my circle tight-knit 'cause people move deceitful Money and greed will expose you to the root of evil Already proved myself, not worried 'bout who's my equal Far from an anti-vaxxer but I moved the needle Shit got me wonderin' if what I do is legal Fuck it, I'm goin' a hunnid in this Buick Regal Fuck it, I'm goin' a hunnid playin' Beanie Sigel You still run that old game, like a Neo Geo You lookin' for me? I'ma be in Rio Sunbathin' off the coast, sippin' Pinot Grigio Out the country so much they like, "Easy, gringo" Straight off the two-track, don't need a single Travelled abroad for my catalog Made all this money recording raps on my Macintosh, call it Apple sauce Even with the cameras off, I be spazzin', dawg Drum machine, analog, the North Face camouflage That lo-fi dusty, Panasonic with the trackin' off Marijuana smoke fill the air like L.A. traffic smog Come on, homie, listen to the voice of reason Yeah, you talk a lot of shit but don't want the beef like a vegan Was passin' through like the aux channel And then I fell asleep on you, shit, we call you the golf channel I'm barbecue grillin' these rappers in Croc sandals Got money to cop Lambos but I'd rather chop samples Many lines, many rhymes, shit, gutter like Pennywise Shoutout Big Brother, got many eyes I'm like Malcolm peekin' through the mini-blinds Fuckin' with Logic, that's the reason that you stop breathing Cardiac arrest caught you at your chest Should've wore a vest, now you all a mess You no kind of threat, you should've wore a dress Polo high-tech with the navy crest Cut from the cloth you couldn't thread with a needle Bought the shit at Fred Segal, got your bitch spread eagle The revolution won't be televised, they tellin' lies They wanna strip your soul away and lead you to a world that's dry That's why we in the kitchen cookin', know you smell the vibes And stick to your ribs shit, no frozen fries Go against the gang, get pulverized I'm at the crib watch-watchin' Cobra Kai Thinkin' to myself, "Goddamn, how old am I?" Rose through depression like a rose, I was destined Your boy reach his goals like D-Rose with the left hand When life takes a toll, I suppose it's a lesson Question, how you woke but you slept in? Treadin' on your rappers like Midas for over ten years Without changin' tires, shit, I should probably check the mileage Back on my hustle, got packs in the duffle Push rhymes like weight, yeah, you know I'm taxin' you double I'm in a pocket like I'm runnin' that, run it back I bought your new shit, hey, run me my money back Fly by night, this that flight like Mike ESPN better get those highlights right Perform better when the lights shine bright You lookin' like food, it might get fried like rice Throw on a chef apron and I turn into Gordon Ramsay I seen cats sell they whole soul for a Camry I seen your favorite artists do the most just for Grammys I seen a grown man lyin' just to get to panties I'm cookin' like grannies The recipe is sick and we got extras in the pantry I'm goin' Super Saiyan, just to represent the family I think that's why the haters can't stand me I'm not the socialite type, but my vocals quite right I'm still spittin' raps like it's Open Mic night I'm still gettin' played from the hoes you might like I'm still gettin' paid off the flows you probably bite It's Logic See-, see-, see-, see-, see the bigger picture so we can profit all around This is for my real hip-hop fans I-, I want that real back, back when you would feel tracks, yeah See-, see-, see-, see-, see the bigger picture so we can profit all around This is for my real hip-hop fans I-, I want that real back, back when you would feel tracks, feel tracks I-, I-, I want that, I-, I want that real I-, I want that real back, back when you would feel tracks, feel tracks I-,I-, I-, I want that real, real-, real-, real-, real back I-, I want that real back-, back when you would feel tracks, feel tracks This is Logic This is Logic This is Lo-, Lo-, Lo-Logic, Logic
Writer(s): Charles Bernstein, Christopher Edward Martin, Robert Bryson Hall Ii, Arjun Ivatury Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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