Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Magician, artist - Kool Keith. Album song Lost Masters Collection, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 03.08.2009
Record label: Oglio
Song language: English
Magician |
| Girl you know the game, and when you start to run |
| Who is this new guy, thinkin he’s funky |
| He ain’t nothin, girl you know |
| Rappers who freestyle forever |
| Can’t afford to buy a cup of cocoa admire my leather |
| Your girl get wetter, touchin my custom made chains |
| Your lip gloss on my, Italian sweater |
| I know you hate me already, go debate me with Freddie |
| DJ’s gonna act like little feminine, in more places |
| Bought the high heels, on the hard concrete |
| Remove your women’s bra, feel chest |
| Wipe your eyeliners off your baseball cap |
| The Starter jacket don’t match yo' faces |
| You put the thongs on, move your panty protectors in the right places |
| Terror in America, feel my drama, defecate on your baby’s momma |
| I sport the real gators, Lou Casey and Tony Llama |
| Y’all act like divas with a flat ass like Madonna |
| Party whereabouts don’t ask me |
| Hold your Zippendales, this ain’t Chippendales |
| Y’all flippendales, move slow like snails |
| Thongs show your girl’s tails, y’all blaze L’s (L's) |
| Girl you know, the man ain’t funky |
| But the brother is whack yo |
| Ah-what you tell your man girl? |
| Remington blows with shells |
| Big Hank movin dank comin up the road with a full tank |
| Make your girl buy another drink |
| Joe Greico, we break neck-o, hand your wife the peppermints |
| Who represents, y’all couldn’t close to me one inch |
| Y’all need to sit down on the wood like Johnny Bench |
| Y’all know the Borden family, your fiance drive a Camry |
| Your hype man name is Annie |
| Your producer in the background wear the black panties |
| No time for the clean-up service or nannies |
| Feeble position wackster, what’s up blackster |
| Lyrical master, asshole plaster |
| You a known hitter, with the first base glove |
| Your mom with the catcher’s mitt-er |
| Pamper for your babysitter |
| Foul smells, your house smell like cat litter |
| Don’t get bitter, I move and get rid of |
| Can’t flow average, maverage |
| Rabid food, vegetable particles, final cabbage |
| You got the nerve to rap like you live in Paris |
| Standard reels, I clown dummies |
| When your first advance is in your deal |
| Stage level, stiff with no skills |
| A bird with beak and bills |
| I crush you from New York all the way out to Hollywood Hills |
| Koooooooooooooooooool, Keith, whatevah |
| Like rappers say |
| Like Big Daddy Kane say rappers steppin to me |
| They wanna get some, you know the outcome |
| You wanna get some, you know the outcome |