g-mo skee & stu bangas – work magic lyrics
[intro]
uh huh! filth! stu bangas! g+mo! let me work!
[chorus]
let a n+gga work his magic, i can show you how to gas it
where i’m from, i never had sh+t and i ain’t ever going back b+tch
let a n+gga work his magic, i can show you how to gas it
where i’m from, i never had sh+t and i ain’t ever going back b+tch (biatch!)
[verse 1]
yo i’m in the rap game cherry pickin’
got this b+tch on lock like an r. kelly victim
makaveli flippin’ in his grave and i’m barely spittin’
every written leave them shocked but they not jellyfishin’
i could be the greatest battle rapper next to mook
’cause i’m good at takin’ foul shots but i never hook
givе me a second, stu, i paid the nonе extra loot
to suck my d+ck in the confession booth, she was pregnant too
hands sticky from the f+ckin’ residue, rolling human+sized blunts, smoking on a leg of groot
it’s inf gang, let us through and don’t talk to me, i’m the type you got to write a letter to
f+ck y’all n+ggas with a broken bat until your colon and your scr+t+m sac overlap
where i’m from, i’m never going back, it’s a dead end
like a cul+de+sac so i’m spittin’ boatloads of crack
[chorus]
let a n+gga work his magic, i can show you how to gas it
where i’m from, i never had sh+t and i ain’t ever going back b+tch
let a n+gga work his magic, i can show you how to gas it
where i’m from, i never had sh+t and i ain’t ever going back b+tch (biatch!)
[verse 2]
ain’t sh+t funny, i ain’t heard a joke in months
i’ve been cleaning my house holding a sponge soaked in blood
trying to knock oprah up, i got her in a cobra clutch
when it come to flowing tough, i’m midas with the golden touch
these rappers gettin’ folded like laptops, i’m a rare n+gga they can’t see, a sasquatch
the doc took a look at my heart and saw a black spot
i blast glocks and give you more holes than some d+mn crocs
stu, i’ma get ’em, soon as you throw the hand sign
tie ’em up and put a sock in they mouth like mankind
i hate everybody, you ain’t gotta understand why
just go bellyflop on top of a f+ckin’ landmine
i be h+lla trippin’, a real nutcase with more personalities than reality television
9/11 was an inside job and your b+tch made my d+ck disappear like every genesis
[chorus]
let a n+gga work his magic, i can show you how to gas it
where i’m from, i never had sh+t and i ain’t ever going back b+tch
let a n+gga work his magic, i can show you how to gas it
where i’m from, i never had sh+t and i ain’t ever going back b+tch (biatch!)
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