Magic lyrics

[Intro]

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

Like I do magic, like I do magic

Bitch, gang, gang

Like I do magic, like I do magic

Ayy, ayy, ayy

[Verse]

Run up on me and this shit gon' get tragic, ayy

Make a nigga disappear, like I do magic

The police get behind me, I disappear, like I do magic

I whip a deuce into a four, like I do magic

I dunk on a bitch, like I'm with the Lakers, they call me Magic

I'm gettin' to that dough and I probably fucked more hoes than Magic

You gettin' money, but when you goin' broke, they disappear, magic

They say Lud Foe how you blow up? I don't know, it was magic

My homie caught a case, we caught the witness, they disappeared, magic

Fuck CPD, they ran in my house, they ain't found me, I was in the attic

I got your bitch up in the Wraith, looked up, she thought it was magic

This ain't no fully automatic pistol but nigga I'm shootin' it rapid

Why your bitch keep callin' my phone, she got a fat ass, she want me to tap it

Run up on me if you think it's an act and this MAC have you stumbling backwards

Bitch, all of your homies in caskets, we be stuffin' them in Backwoods

Bitch, I'll pull up and start blastin', I'll do a hit and start laughin'

Smoking opp pack

Where your gun at? you better tote that

I'm off the dome, I ain't even wrote that

It's a cold world, where your coat at?

You get face shots, like a Kodak

I'm lookin' for you nigga, where your block at?

Ain't one up top, he forgot to cock that

Drive a six-trey, then unlock that

Hit the block then I white chalk that

I fall in the club like, where them bitches at?

We in minivans, lookin' for your mans, huh

Where them niggas at?

Shit that you do in the streets, never mention that

He ain't know I have my heat

I looked at that nigga like bitch who you flinchin' at?

I'm Chef Boyardee, I fuck up the pot, show me where the kitchen at

We in the club and she can't keep focused, I'm where all her attention at

Bitch I was checkin' attendance, where was your attendance at?

Don't say you want war with us, 'cause if you start with us,

Bitches gon' fuck around, finish that

Pull on your block, swingin' this brand new Glock forty like a tennis racket

Get knocked right out of your socks, thought we was gon' box,

But no I'ma kill his ass

This clip full of hot shit, that's right, I'ma fill his ass

We hit this fuck nigga, let off thirty shots and it still ain't hit, shit

My bitch got an ass so fat

Sittin' right on her back, her jeans, she can't even fit

This pill got me rollin' hard

I got cotton mouth, so bitch I can't even spit

Don't give no fuck who you gon' get

Bitch, we gon' kill you and whoever you with

Try walkin' in my shoes, they don't even fit

'Cause bitch I'm real as it get, real as it get

[Outro]

Gang, gang, gnag, gang, gang, gang, bitch

Skrrt, skrrt, baow, baow, baow, baow, baow baow baow, baow

• Artist:Lud Foe
• Album:Boochie Gang (2018)