Logic No Pressure Freestyle Mp3 Download. Logic came through with BARS on his latest freestyle titled, “No Pressure.” It felt like a bit of an update on his life, for the most part, plus it’s been a minute since we got some new music from Logic. Off the rip, the rapper flips a classic J Dilla production for the “No Pressure” freestyle. The rapper teased a brand new project but the most interesting part of the freestyle arrives at the end. “Bobby Boy Records out this bitch. And I’m having a little baby! Surprise, it’s a little baby boy! Fuck TMZ, they can’t get the scoop on that,” he concludes.
Quotable Lyrics Readin’ Nastradamus at 90 degrees Better believe, I turn a profit with ease Die a critical lifestyle, I’m always overseas Hurricane Bobby in the studio blowin’ trees
Logic sets the pace with a running flow, sounding effortless as he flexes his technical prowess. It’s likely that many have already prematurely predicted “lyrical miracles” on this go-around, yet Bobby Tarantino still allows himself room for a playful streak. It’s clear that there’s a sort of healthy competition transpiring, as both aspire to reach the upper echelon of their craft, holding shared values and principles.
Eminem matches Logic’s energy and then some, weaving impressive double-time schemes laced with homages to former collaborator Jay-Z, with whom he once traded bars on “Renegade.” The post-Kamikaze venom still lingers, as Em’s tirade picks up whirlwind momentum; the same targets are once again shown no mercy, particularly those who rely on ghostwriters to pen their bars. His clever ear remains intact (“you couldn’t hold a candle at a prayer vigil”) though at this point, Em has become somewhat of a divisive artist and unlikely to convert the skeptics. Still, he’s comfortably in his element on “Homicide,” finding himself a lyrical sparring partner and indulging in a bit of Chris D’Elia inspired self-deprecation.
With so many foul lines, you think I’m a free throw Figured it was about time for people to eat crow You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned? I stay on my toes like the repo, a behemoth in sheep clothes From the East Coast to the West, I’m the ethos and I’m the G.O.A.T Who the best, I don’t gotta say a fuckin’ thing, though ‘Cause MCs know But you don’t wanna hear me spit the facts Your shit is ass like a tailbone Or you’re trapped in your cell phone Or my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe I don’t want to fuckin’ listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote