conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Pardon My Ego with the following description: “Pardon My Ego” is where Logic flaunts his successes and the lifestyle he lives thanks to where he is at in the industry.
  The track was originally teased by Logic on November 16, 2018, as installment three of his “Freestyle Friday” series:
  
  
  
   Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Chorus]
  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)
  [Verse 1]
  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...
  [Chorus]
  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, woo, 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) [Post-Chorus]
  Like (Ah)
  Get the bread (Ah), get the bread (Ah)
  Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread
  [Verse 2]
  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
  [Chorus]
  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, woo, 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) [Outro]
  Like (Ah)
  Get the bread (Ah), get the bread (Ah)
  Count this fucking money, boy, now get the bread