conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Homicide with the following description: “Homicide" is the third single released from Logic’s 2019 album, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.
  The track exhibits Logic and Eminem’s rapid-fire flows. The title seems to assert that they are lyrically murdering their detractors and non-lyrical rappers.
  In a 2018 interview with HardKnockTV, Logic shared his thoughts on Eminem and his desire to collaborate with him:
  It was awesome […] to be recognized by one of my favorite MCs of all time, one of my favorite artists […] I fuck with him. I want to work with him. I want to do a song with him. I think that could be pretty cool. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro: Smokey Legendary, 
  Logic
   & 
  B
  oth
  ]
  Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
  Why, Dad?
  Because you came out of my balls, nigga
  Hahahahahaha
  (Roof!)
  [Chorus: Logic]
  Fuck rap
  Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
  Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back
  Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
  Leave a suicide note, fuck that
  Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
  I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
  I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady with rabies
  [Verse 1: Logic]
  I'm foamin' at the mouth, ain't nobody takin' me out
  Every single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what I'm about
  And I dare you to test me
  'Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me
  And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration
  But I'm full of innovation
  And I'm tired of all of this high school "He's cool, he's not" rap shit
  Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit
  No, this ain't a diss to the game, this a gas to the flame
  Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame
  Like a moth to the flame, I'ma reel 'em in and kill 'em
  Know you feelin' lyricism when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself
  Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself
  Mass murder like this can't be good for my health
  When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?
  Well, it don't really matter, 'cause I'm killin' this shit
  Yeah, I'm killin' this shit
  Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this shit
  Bobby, how many times you been killin' this shit?
  Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit [Chorus: Logic]
  Fuck rap
  Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
  Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back
  Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
  Leave a suicide note, fuck that
  Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
  I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
  I'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika-chika
  Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady
  [Verse 2: Logic]
  There's nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide
  Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die
  We gon' leave 'em crucified, we call this shit genocide
  I got bitches, I got hoes, I got rare designer clothes
  No, we ain't fuckin' with that
  Yeah, there's a time and a place
  But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps
  Callin' yourself the greatest alive
  Then you don't deserve to do that
  No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that
  You gon' get smacked
  You gon' make Bobby attack
  You gon' make Bobby Boy snap
  You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!) [Chorus: Logic]
  Fuck rap
  Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
  Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back
  Hold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
  Leave a suicide note, fuck that
  Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
  I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
  I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika
  Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady
  [Verse 3: Eminem]
  Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
  Jig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything
  Are getting washed, liga-liga-liga, like bathing
  Young Hova, I know hitters like Yankees
  Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy
  Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover
  Your body goes limp and slumps over
  Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered
  Hol' up, I said "Rover" because now your Rover is red
  Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant
  But I roll over my opponents instead
  Makin' dog sounds 'cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down
  I'll go slow for the speds
  But when I go (Roof!) like the Dobermann said
  I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Ha-ha)
  Beast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit
  With so many foul lines, you'll 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's 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 wanna fuckin' listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote
  Used to get beat up by the big kids
  Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
  And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still
  Now money's not a big deal
  I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mill'
  Big bills like a platypus
  A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis
  I'm lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin'
  Batterin' everything and I've had it with the inadequate
  Man, I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin
  And I'm bringin' the bandana back, and the fuckin' headband again
  A handkerchief and I'm thinkin' of bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back
  And not giving a singular fuck, like fuck rap
  I sound like a fuckin' millionaire
  With a Derringer with a hair trigger
  'Bout to bear hug a fuckin' terrier, the Ric Flair dripper
  Y'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil
  When I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct
  I'm 'bout to bare-knuckle it, nah, fuck it
  I'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket
  Abraca-fuckin'-dabra
  The track is the blood, I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it
  What? Dracula, fuck that shit
  I'm up, back with a thud
  Man, stop [Outro: Chris D'Elia]
  Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' to
  Do all this while ya panickin'
  And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins
  And I'm goin' to Fanagans
  Trying to get up a plan against
  All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans
  While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana
  You're in a cab-
  I'm in a cabana and a Janet
  I'm in a cabana chantin' all this standup banter
  While you don't got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina
  You're lackin' the stamina while you're divorcin' Harrison Ford
  And I'm in a Porsche on the floorboards
  While I'm world tourin'
  You usin' way too many napkins, papkins
  Lapkins and chapki-
  You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin'
  Flappin' around like a bapkin'
  Flamminababbitapannitajampkin
  Dammit, a can of pada-