In this energetic and self-assured track, Logic explores themes of success, confidence, and the challenges that accompany fame. The artist reflects on his journey from humble beginnings to earning substantial sums for performances, emphasizing his rapid rise in the music industry. He juxtaposes moments of introspection with braggadocio, highlighting his resilience and determination to succeed despite criticism. References to iconic figures like Kid Cudi and Kanye West underscore his awareness of the thin line between genius and madness. Logic's repeated mention of "getting the bread" symbolizes his relentless pursuit of financial stability and recognition. Ultimately, the song serves as a bold declaration of self-worth and an unapologetic celebration of personal achievements amidst a backdrop of societal expectations and pressures.
Pardon My Ego
Lyrics
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh, ah, uh, uh)
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh)
Skinny Nikki geeky, gettin' brain dead, uh
I don't give a fuck what the lames say, uh
Old girl wanna give the boy head
How 'bout a little bitty self-love instead?
I can't fuck a ho, I'd rather self-love instead
Can't save a ho, no S on my chest, or gun to my head (ah)
Get the bread (ah), get the bread (ah)
Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread, uh
I ain't just tryna get a nut off
Bobby Boy be quick to leave a bad bitch cut off
Like when you in the studio and the vocal get cut
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh, ah, uh, uh)
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh)
Like (ah)
Get the bread (ah), get the bread (ah)
Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread
I'm feelin' like Kid Cudi
A little crazy, but tell me, what genius ain't a little nutty?
Everybody be like that sometimes
You can hear it in me in some rhymes
I ain't bipolar, Kanye make me wish I was
'Cause that level of genius the meanest
Nobody fuckin' around with that flow
When I spit it, you know it's the cleanest, uh
All my haters can suck my penis
Went from five hundred a show to sellin' out arenas
From SOB's in NYC
To smokin' trees at the motherfuckin' Garden
Pardon my ego, uh
Maybe it's the weed smoke
Maybe it's the beat though
If I draw it in the sand
Better not cross the line like a free throw, uh
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh, ah, uh, uh)
Five hundred thousand for a one-off
Hit the stage, I rage, and then I run off (uh)
It don't matter where we at, it's poppin' like a gun off (uh)
Bumping N.W.A. on the 101-uh (uh)
Like (ah)
Get the bread (ah), get the bread (ah)
Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread
Writer(s): Arjun Ivatury, Kevin Gomringer, Robert Bryson Hall, Tim Gomringer
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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