Music Video

Logic - Mama / Show Love (feat. YBN Cordae) (Official Audio)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Logic
Logic
Vocals
Cordae
Cordae
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Songwriter
Arjun Ivatury
Arjun Ivatury
Songwriter
Aaron Gomez
Aaron Gomez
Songwriter
Adam Feeney
Adam Feeney
Songwriter
Lawrence Parker
Lawrence Parker
Songwriter
Cordae Dunston
Cordae Dunston
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
6ix
6ix
Producer
AG
AG
Producer
Frank Dukes
Frank Dukes
Producer
Robert Campbell
Robert Campbell
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Mama, look at me now Mama, look at me now I got the juice, coming for you and I'm bringing the noose Leaving 'em hanging, my shit banging Second that I came in the game, I'm aiming Hold up, wait a minute, break it down for the lame one I'm killin' everybody, I'm the MC that the MCs study Look up to me, little buddy Do it like me, little buddy Save yo' money, don't think about a Beamer 'Til ya sellin' out arenas, and you're ballin' like a Ballin'-ballin'-ballin'-ballin'- Everybody wonder what it be like Now it what it seem like, now it what it dream like Go like green light, somethin' what it fiend like Do it for the drug, then we do it for the love And we do it for the high that we get, when we ride in the whip And somebody pull up on you and they vibe-vibe-vibing your shit Mama (Yeah, uh), look at me now Mama look what you created, now I'm super faded And I'm truly hated 'cause I'm real rich But she too elated 'cause she knew we made it Got the Louis sueded on some trill shit I be coolin' nigga, making stupid figures But the truth is realer than the fake shit Know they shoot the killers and produce the triggers I go two gorillas on some Bape shit Look at all the fame and the fortune, the pain and extortion The range and the Porches, the same but it's gorgeous Mama called me, said your name on the Forbes list Thank god your daddy never paid for abortion But sharing clothes, good times I'ma cherish those Now I'm stuck doing Paris shows Embarrass hoes, I'm carousel, I'm careless though, I bear the toe Don't dare your soul (My god) Mama, look at me now Ayy, I'm the one that's waiting from, they get it done I'm killing them without a gun Take it in, rake it in like a leaf from a money tree Keep it goin', keep it goin', get the money, get the money When it's sunny, 'cause when them clouds come I can promise it's depression That's when you learn your lesson Thought you was cut out for this, your profession Go be the best in all of that, nah fuck all of that No one call him back, yeah no falling back Breaking down on stage, break it down on page Breaking down your age Like, like now, all you do is compare, compare, compare Comparing yourself to the world And you losing yourself to the world And you're losing yourself to your money, your fame, and your fans You have bigger plans, you is in demand, they don't give a (damn) Spend all your money on bullshit and drama Had zeros and zeros, and commas on commas On commas, on commas, on commas (On commas) Mama, look at me now Ayy, ayy, bitch, get the fuck off my dick Everybody better, I'ma talk my shit Put him on my back, then I walk my shit Fuck around, flick my wrist, get it like this I got more plaques than I know what to do with Believed in myself when nobody else knew it Goddamn, I been through it Goddamn, I been through it You ain't got class, bitch you been truent I am the truest, no need to ask Back it up, girl, now back that ass Bobby get bitches 'cause bitches love Bobby And all of the bitches say Bobby delicious To say I love bitches completely fictitious 'Cause I, I respect women But let's be real, man, there's some bad bitches out there Man, I'm just playing She flipped the reefer, don't know what I'm saying I'm pushing30, my, I'm pushin'g30, my man (It's time to have fun) Shoutout that boy Gambino Shoutout that boy K. Dot Shoutout that boy young Drizzy All y'all been doing a lot Why the rap game so scared to show love? I don't know but I am not That shit right there, I'm Black Thought Y'all bring it back to the roots Yes, I most definitely got the juice Yes, I got love for the game Don't do this shit for the fame It's how we people the same Don't care what set you claim Shoutout that boy YG, Nat King Cole and JID Everybody know I be in the club V.I.P (Huh) Psych, not me Too many people to name, but know I got love for you all If you need me, I got you, I promise, just give me a call Hip hop, we a family, but the hype beast wanna ban me 'Cause I am me, speak love, not hate, so they don't understand me 2019 better get that Grammy Give me my props where props is due Why everybody wanna come stop you? Maybe they mad that they not you When you piece that peace and love Make them wanna come through, pop shots at you That's no love, fuck that, show love Don't buck back like a bitch
Writer(s): Lawrence Parker, Adam King Feeney, Arjun Ivatury, Sir Robert Bryson Hall Ii, Aaron Gomez, Cordae Dunston Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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