My visions that i record, the instruments i adore
Spit magic im dumbledore run the game til my foot sore
No magic, these leaders, it's tragic no need to breathe, the heater
Something like serena mixed with trina, have you seen her
Sid's got the magic, watch him burn
Don't regurgitate my sperm
Its easy on tv make them believe what they be seeing
Busy dreaming about the magic which i'm weaving
Shame on themyour legs too little and your t-shirt big
Wish i had the esp, or use a little black magic
The kundalini serpent is the source of my magic.
K9's all in the kitchen way before i even heard of mike vick
Only fear death when you staring down a loaded gun
Fucking the game up, working magic with this johnson
This is for the magic grill where noodle dreams are made
High outer space no atlas got a lot of bait
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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