conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Tim Westwood Freestyle with the following description: Logic freestyles over Kendrick Lamar’s single, “The Recipe” on Tim Westwood
   Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro:Logic]
  RattPack
  V's up
  Check it out listen up
  [Verse 1: Logic]
  One day, I woke up, and said I'm 'bout do this for the rest of my life
  No question is right
  Waiting for the bus at a stop light looking at the cop right in front of my eyes
  Living in a world of lies
  Where the truth dies and hatred multiplies, mu-mu-mu-multiplies
  I said I can't take it
  I remember wondering if I would ever make it
  But as I reminisce I realize it was all irrelevant, it's evident
  I'm Getting money for the hell of it
  Never fuck around until the flow celibate
  Speaking for the people like a delegate and when the situation's delicate
  I execute it with the proper etiquette
  Everybody wanna get ahead of it no
  I can't take the time to stop
  It ain't all about the money so I'm headed to the top
  But I'm still getting gwap never stop unless a body drop
  Metaphorical motherfucker to get it in
  While the whole world spin for the dividend
  But I'm in another system
  Everybody hate till he dead then they miss 'em
  Why can't we relax and listen
  Stop spending money on things that glisten
  From the east coast, but we chillin it out Cali
  Cause your boy got drive like valet
  Poppin' bottles of that bubbly, Caillat
  Leaving motherfuckers on their toes like ballet
  White girls doing lines of white
  And they be down to fuck if the time is right
  Marry anybody if the diamonds right
  And yeah we don’t give a fuck what they..
  Bad bitches on they dick but I can't fade
  Cause they in love with the fact that I'm getting paid
  Make a motherfucker wanna roll up
  Cracka hold up in a drop top, on the west coast
  Shout out to my homies up in LA from the East Coast
  G's Up Hoes down when we come around
  V's up, mufucka from the underground
  And I made it to the mainstream
  With the same team
  On another level but you on the same thing
  Lyrical fiend and I flip it up with the same scheme
  Rattpack till the casket
  Flowin' no quicker then when the gas lit
  When it comes to impeccable flow will leave em mastered
  Getting money left and right I pancake
  Got stacks like iHop can't fake
  On the road to riches so there ain't no need to break
  So common homie tell me what it is
  Never in another brother biz
  Up in West Deer Park listening to Wiz
  Getting money from every direction
  No question, living is a blessing
  Rest in peace to the homies that ain't here today
  Cause in the pack I ain't got nothing to fear today
  Reppin MD, near DC, out VA, up NYC
  Chillin in a whip like, like, like Visionary [Verse 2: Logic]
  And all these spanish women watching me like a novella
  And even when we in the crib I still need an umbrella
  Cause im getting her wetter than a letterman in the rain
  We at the club hundreds and fifties I'm making it rain (Sike Nah)
  All of y'all know I'm kidding like the rubber broke
  Getting money and bitches but really that’s another note
  And all these haters they can suck my dick
  Cause honestly that's the only way you'll ever suck-ceed
  Got what you need cause I sweat and I bleed
  Did it all on my own didn't beg didn't plead
  Everybody talk about logic, don't sell out
  Bitch I had a deal for a year before it fell out
  Doing shit that rappers never do you know I'm on that
  So why don’t I start by telling you what was in my contract
  Make the type of music that I want (Check)
  Work with whoever the hell I want (check)
  Keep it visionary to the death (yeah)
  Cause I'm doing it for the music, not just to get a check
  V's up, whaddup you know I'm on point
  I be chilling with your bitch while she rollin up a joint
  Making a killing for a living like a hitman
  Rappers hear my new records and be like aw shit man!
  Black Power, Black Card, White fist
  Ain't no way a mixed brother didn’t write this
  And everybody talking shit man, screw it
  Cus if you can do it better than me then you do it !
  Where we going, really there's no tellin'
  Lyrical cocaine, narcotics is what I'm sellin'
  God damn, got bars like a felon
  And we getting C-notes like my homie Jon Bellion
  Logic