This is a song about "Magic the gathering"

You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air

Blowin' fuck it i don't care, dreads is flyin' everywhere

Gas 'em like a rental, when i take off, tell the bitch take care

Some sort of sensual magic can crackle through the air

No it's not satanic, it's magic

No bullshit, i'm mike with the mic

So i tried to show her about the world and about just who we really are

But the magic part at the magic grill you gon be starvin in like 2 hour

But im not sure because half the time its magic to me

What the fuck i look like, saying i'm sorry

Spit magic im dumbledore run the game til my foot sore

I am like what happens when our guard be on his job more

Tommyp the devilish bastard, spinnin spells like i was a fuckin magic caster.

But not as bad as lookin' backwards wishin' that we hadn't been such of a damn disaster

Your performing magic tricks and breaking the laws of psychics

I put you over my money, all of my nice kicks