Untouchable (Feat. Logic & Kirk Knight)

Yeah
Yeah, yeah
Turn my mic up a little bit
RattPack, boy
Uh, yeah (DJ Hoppa)
Uh

Ayo, whose arm is this? (What?)
I guess Slim cut it off at the pharmacist (rah)
We murdering MCs then flee to where ever the Bahamas is
I blew up (baow), so that should let ya know just who the bombest is
'Cause I could see the future like my glasses' Nostradamus's (yeah, yeah)
Damn, these rappers and they fillings like an orthodontist
It's probably 'cause my skin is white, c'mon, be more than honest?
I signed a deal with Def Jam 'cause I'm the man
These fuckers sortas and kinda's

Yo, ayo, yo, my city behind this
I know that you see that I'm murdering synonyms all up in it when I rhyme this
My flow is impeccable, hella unwreckable
Knowing nobody else on this
So let me slow it down (let me slow it down)
Yo, let me slow it down (let me slow it down)
Check it, ayo
Ayo, yo

Aye, let me slow it down so these ignorant people hear me
Even my favorite MCs won't get near me 'cause they fear me
Revere me, no disrespect, I mean that shit sincerely
I am merely the second Renaissance to the fullest
It's all love from up above, keep a gat in the glove just in case
Introduce you to Christ like Mase, sike, nah (sike, nah)
All of you know that Logic keep the peace
But my brothers keep a piece in the streets, you got it? Capeesh?
See that's a life I never wanted, but I grew up in
And did a lot of dumb shit I'd never do again, what?

The flow trustable, sick and it's untoucha-
The flow trustable, sick and it's untouch-
The flow trustable, sick and it's untouch-
You can't fu-fu-fuck with this style
Fu-Funk Volume
RattPack, P-Pro Era
Fu-Funk Volume
You can't fu-fu-fuck with this style (woo!)

I said who want war? Mass killing MCs
I'm your Dada, nothing less than a seed
Please, you can't romp with me and I still got Jedi view
Pray that the force be with you all in this general bleed

Don't retaliate when I retell you already warned
I terrorize the skies and probably just make you my son
Or swap your towel in early
It's the same simple story, but in this category you messing with me

Brethren in the free spirit, hear it in every lyric
Something I'm tryna esoteric, every post pivot
Niggas is pretentious, I don't pretend shit
Penny for your thoughts, man, tell him where his sense is

And since I know fear, in this race my objects so clear
Whatever floats your boat is probably what's set by your peers
This is the food of my ladle, call me unstable, hold your horses
Ain't nothing but fables, what's the fucking deal if there's no labels

Any enemies, I already decapitate 'em
Can't compute this picture already, just mainframe 'em
So, who's head is this?
This is the rhyming fucking specialist
Ahead of the game like Allah, stay perpetuous

The flow trustable, sick and it's untoucha-
The flow trustable, sick and it's untouch-
The flow trustable, sick and it's untouch-
You can't fu-fu-fuck with this style (Pro Era, nigga)
Fu-Funk Volume
RattPack (mic check), Pro Era (mic check, one-two)
Fu-Funk Volume
You can't fu-fu-fuck with this style (uh, yeah)

Ayo, who's leg is this? (Uh) I'm stretching it 'til it breaks
We sending messages, scraping off the complexion on your face
Pass the medicine, landed, never stranded in your state
Couple demands, but my lovely fans will never make me wait
You get the memo (memo), the intro was some logic for your mental (rah)
Lyrically complex for the temple, you nigga's simple (rah)
Taking over, y'all should consider taking our instrumentals (rah)
Just to prove that y'all can rap, or move the fuck back

We on fire, that Illuminati talk is gettin' tired
I mean, the fact I'm this far should tell you I follow what I desire
I'm the man (man), in the land of the snakes I do what I can
I have King symptoms, you just Hooked on Phonics with your friends
Got that livin' in ivy (whoa), your flow ain't acceptable
Nigga, we comin' up so we can kill everybody (whoa)
We headed, you better dead it 'fore we catch you when you be out in yo' Bugatti (whoa)
Nah, nah, that nigga ain't nobody, he sloppy
Lolly-gaggin' with the bandwagon posse, you's a ho (ho)

Pussy dry, you ain't cleaned it in months
Preachin' that Teamwork Makes The Dream Work from the jump, chump
The homeless man that's eatin' rappers for lunch
A blunt to back it up, I hope that I ain't askin' for much, what?

The flow trustable, sick and it's untoucha-
The flow trustable, sick and it's untouch-
The flow trustable, sick and it's untouch-
You can't fu-fu-fuck with this style
Fu-Funk Volume
RattPack, P-Pro Era
Fu-Funk Volume
You can't fu-fu-fuck with this style