[Intro:]
Yeah, my name is Riley, son
But you know what n***** call me?
AKA, Riley Escobar, know what I'm saying?
Cause I be in the streets you know?
I got all kinds of names like HR Paper Stacks
Uh, also known as AKA Horse Choker, uh
[Verse 1: Logic]
Hey, yo, I'll chop you up in sixteen pieces
In front of your nieces, while I'm eating Reese's
And won't even offer them any, yes I spit plenty
This is East Coast flow at its finest
In the studio, where you find us, put a bullet where your spine is
At sixteen I was skipping school and smoking chronic
While you was learning about English, Big L was teaching Ebonics
I spit fire so demonic, writing code like I'm Masonite
A Jedi master breaking it down like old plaster
No medication for this track cause this is how a psycho rips
My bank account is like a cino bolt, your pocket's microchips, uh
m***********, I dare you to test it, hope you're well rested
Whoop your a** and get arrested, in a double breasted
Louis Vuitton diamond encrested tailor made suit
Now that's All Sinatra Everything
I explode like hollow tips on contact
Chronologically murder schmoe there's no bringing Joe back
Puffing cubans and sipping Cognac
Mafietic mentality, introduce me to this beat and it's fatality
I kill mics like Conrad Murray
Sharp like Hanzo steel, the rest is obtuse
I get loose when sipping Goose and rhyme like Doc Seuss
Flow tight like noose, whoop a** like Bruce, no time for a truce
Alphabetical mathematic addict
I spit sixteens so erratic you think it was a semi-automatic
I know by now you thinking "Oh my God, he let them have it"
But that was just a loan, time to collect like I'm Capone
Reap what I've sewn, in other words that is the throne
Chilling while homies smoking marijuan'
If you thinking that this s*** is wack well then you're dead wrong
Cause for every emotion and every mood I have a song
For the club, for the streets, for the whip and for the sheets
Cause this is where intellect and versatility meets
I'm Young Sinatra, backstage chilling with BobbySoxers
I got ya
[Outro:]
Yeah!
You wanna f*** with us?!
f*** with us, yeah!?
Yeah, my name is Riley, son
But you know what n***** call me?
AKA, Riley Escobar, know what I'm saying?
Cause I be in the streets you know?
I got all kinds of names like HR Paper Stacks
Uh, also known as AKA Horse Choker, uh
[Verse 1: Logic]
Hey, yo, I'll chop you up in sixteen pieces
In front of your nieces, while I'm eating Reese's
And won't even offer them any, yes I spit plenty
This is East Coast flow at its finest
In the studio, where you find us, put a bullet where your spine is
At sixteen I was skipping school and smoking chronic
While you was learning about English, Big L was teaching Ebonics
I spit fire so demonic, writing code like I'm Masonite
A Jedi master breaking it down like old plaster
No medication for this track cause this is how a psycho rips
My bank account is like a cino bolt, your pocket's microchips, uh
m***********, I dare you to test it, hope you're well rested
Whoop your a** and get arrested, in a double breasted
Louis Vuitton diamond encrested tailor made suit
Now that's All Sinatra Everything
I explode like hollow tips on contact
Chronologically murder schmoe there's no bringing Joe back
Puffing cubans and sipping Cognac
Mafietic mentality, introduce me to this beat and it's fatality
I kill mics like Conrad Murray
Sharp like Hanzo steel, the rest is obtuse
I get loose when sipping Goose and rhyme like Doc Seuss
Flow tight like noose, whoop a** like Bruce, no time for a truce
Alphabetical mathematic addict
I spit sixteens so erratic you think it was a semi-automatic
I know by now you thinking "Oh my God, he let them have it"
But that was just a loan, time to collect like I'm Capone
Reap what I've sewn, in other words that is the throne
Chilling while homies smoking marijuan'
If you thinking that this s*** is wack well then you're dead wrong
Cause for every emotion and every mood I have a song
For the club, for the streets, for the whip and for the sheets
Cause this is where intellect and versatility meets
I'm Young Sinatra, backstage chilling with BobbySoxers
I got ya
[Outro:]
Yeah!
You wanna f*** with us?!
f*** with us, yeah!?