8percent, astrus & wassup rocker - magic! lyrics
magic! lyrics
[chorus; 8percent]
lil’ b+tch, i’m swaggin’, what’s happenin’?
make yo’ b+tch disappear like magic
i’m just countin’ all these racks off of rappin’
fu+fu+f+ckin’ up sacks, my passion
okay, like, new whip, finna push that sh+t
countin’ blue strips, till it rip my wrist
who is you b+tch? leave a b+tch clueless
and we do this, if you shoot, don’t miss
i’m swaggin’, what’s happenin’?
make yo’ b+tch disappear like magic
i’m just countin’ all these racks off of rappin’
fu+fu+f+ckin’ up sacks, my passion
okay, like, new whip, finna push that sh+t
countin’ blue strips, till it rip my wrist
who is you b+tch? leave a b+tch clueless
and we do this, if you shoot, don’t miss
[verse 1: astrus+]
how you got gucci but ain’t got no whip?
’bout to buy another car just in case i wanna switch
i got mortgage, i don’t really do rent
and i’m blowi’n on gas that’ll make you spin
it go s+x, music, then i go shop a bit
two glocks, boy, don’t go startin’ sh+t
bad b+tches, you know they tappin’ in
all black fit then throw some rick in it
model 3 and i got yo’ b+tch in it (skrrt)
tell her that i don’t do questionin’ (nah)
dropped out with this black dior letterman
i don’t really do much, baby, i just rap a bit (huh, huh, huh, huh)
boy, wake up and get to yo job
big body parked in the garage
new girl, ass on nicki minaj
when i get on tv, i’m shoutin’ out my dogs, like, ha
[pre+chorus: 8percent]
lil’ b+tch, i’m swaggin’, what’s happenin+nin’?
make yo’ b+tch disappear like ma+a+a+a, like+like
i’m just countin’ all these racks off of rappin’
fu+fu+f+ckin’ up sacks, fu+fu+f+ckin’ up, f+ckin’ up
[chorus: 8percent]
lil’ b+tch, i’m swaggin’, what’s happenin’?
make yo’ b+tch disappear like magic
i’m just countin’ all these racks off of rappin’
fu+fu+f+ckin’ up sacks, my passion
okay, like, new whip, finna push that sh+t
countin’ blue strips, till it rip my wrist
who is you b+tch? leave a b+tch clueless
and we do this, if you shoot, don’t miss (skrrt)
[verse 2: ciscaux]
i like my b+tches brown like bourbon (yes, sir)
remember had no homework turned in (for real)
nowadays get more money than a surgeon (ayy, chi+ching)
big, big racks in an all black suburban (chi+ching)
get money two ways, digital, physical (go)
yeah, they gon’ hate but it’s only subliminal (b+tch)
yeah, i might flex but i keep it to minimal (go, go, go, go, go, go)
heard what they dropping and that sh+t is pitiful (ayy)
relax, i got a bag on the way
hit sacks (woo), put about a thou on my waist
get back (yeah), boy, this a million dollar face
and a priceless smile like my momma say (ayy)
if looks could k!ll, i’d leave these b+tches in a he+rs+
i smell like the 15th and look like the 1st
my b+tch so proud of me but chanel her purse (no)
they try to copy me, but this ain’t rehe+rs+d (b+tch)
[verse 3: wassup rocker]
i push her nerves to the maximum
i used to ride in the back of a maxima
usually i don’t talk sh+t but i’m mad as f+ck
divide the splits with my friends and we add it up
everything i do, i do it twice
everything i do, i do it nice
buy a zip and blow it all night
my b+tch is just like me, we look alike, like, ah
we live our lives like some bachelors, duh
i get my bag like its postmates, duh
i’m still recovering, it’s okay, uh
im in the band like its coldplay, uh
[chorus: 8percent]
lil’ b+tch, i’m swaggin’, what’s happenin’?
make yo’ b+tch disappear like magic
i’m just countin’ all these racks off of rappin’
fu+fu+f+ckin’ up sacks, my passion
okay, like, new whip, finna push that sh+t
countin’ blue strips, till it rip my wrist
who is you b+tch? leave a b+tch clueless
and we do this, if you shoot, don’t miss
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