conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called ’95 Tip with the following description: On “‘95 Tip,” Logic delivers pure cockiness through his lyrics as a new MC.
  The song was later remade in 2010 on his official debut mixtape, Young, Broke & Infamous titled “BackPack.”
  His reasoning was that he wanted the track to be remastered when transitioning from his previous name to his current name, Logic. He also stated that he felt this Psychological mixtape was “unofficial.”
  This song samples The Roots, as well as Dave Chappelle’s “For What Its Worth” stand up. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro]
  This right here, homie
  This that first take shit, you know what I’m saying?
  For my real heads
  All my real hip hop motherfuckers, they know they're Roots shit
  You know what I mean?
  So we gon' get it like this
  Let that beat drop, Psychological
  [Verse 1]
  I spit fifties and shit hundreds
  Do shit that's undid
  Spontaneously combust in these bitches guts
  I get 'em wet, no need to touch
  Break their back like Dutches
  Keep 'em close like the toast I clutch
  Never the less, I'm never depressed, I keep feelings suppressed
  One of the best but need to listen if I'ma progress
  I'm ready to live, I'm ready to die, I'm ready to ride for rap
  I said it on a record, now I can't take it back
  Stop, I shut it down like a bloodclot
  Smoke MCs, like a fuckin bumbaclot
  Mic check, I come to catch wreck
  Death before dishonor so I'm coming for your neck
  I pop MCs like Hymens
  Y'all glass posing in studs, but I'm a diamond
  Now recon, you need to listen, I'm never dissin'
  Unless your shit is wack, I'll beat you into submission
  Catch me fishin' 'cause I'm eating for a lifetime
  Wisdom in my mind, 
  I'm a star watch me shine
  Fucking your bitch from behind, record it and hit rewind
  I'm nasty, construct rhymes like rhinoplasty
  A hip-hop statue, rhymes coming at you, God bless you
  When I kick wisdom it never stress you or test you
  Unless you a dumb ass motherfucker [Break]
  (Psychological) Yeah, no want no more
  Fuck it, ayo
  [Verse 2]
  Said this is mathematic tactics
  Murder this rap shit
  Intravenously inject my prophylactics
  Inhale my words like a fresh batch of Vicks
  Similar to black ice 'cause the flow so slick
  What's up, rappers hear the rhyme they slit they wrists up
  Do a whole 'lotta talking, no rapping like fisticuffs
  Ah, yeah, (
  Turn my headphones up
  )
  That's all you sayin' but I'm sprayin' and I can't get enough
  Raw, rugged and rough, my alter ego, Mr. Tough
  I'll call your bluff, face to face never snuff
  I murder you with predicate poetic balletic shit
  No mercy 'cause if I grip the mic they might curse me
  Da Vinci flow
  , when I grip the mic I’m in control
  Before I manifested tendons, I was rhyming as a embryo
  Living in vertigo
  , 
  half of these fuckers don't know
  [Outro]
  Yeah, all day. Drop tracks like that, all nuts in. 
  Maryland stand up
  , that's it. I'm out, peace, one love. Fuck if you doubt me
  (
  You are watching a master at work
  )
  Todd? Todd? Would you care for a glass of grape juice?
  I said, what?
  Nigga, what the fuck is juice?
  I want some grape drink, baby