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(verse 1)
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(verse 1)
I acknowledge the power of magick. You grasp it?! Fuckin faggot. I actually enjoy rapping. Everyone's getting on my last nerve. Stop touching me! And don't fuck with me! I don't care about luxury. I just want my chick. It was Chuck and me, but then she decided to do some other sheet. I mean, shit. I mean... look at this shit! What, shite? Nutty Professor, when I fuck my chick at night! Mad fat. In her ass crack. And that's a doom. What happened to... THAT boy? The dude who was afraid of doom, but was rapping because "Hey! It was to assume that I didn't enjoy being in doom!". Plus I got people in my room, viewing me. It's you and me, Mr. I-Don't-Like-Life. And I'm the guy who I need to be on the mic...
(hook)
Madder, because of magick,
and I don't want you to have it!
Madder, because of magick!
My flow is automatic.
Madder, because of magick.
Do you want me sadder?!
Abra-FUCKING-cadabra!, nigga.
Abra-FUCKING-cadabra!, nigga.
Abracadabra!
(verse 2)
Everyone's going nuts, but I castrate rap. Lacerate rap. Have a bacon stick of that. Not a stick of bacon. A strip. As in, "Mind your fuckin' business, Business!". Why is everyone paying attention, when I wasn't the one saying some shit that had everybody losing their mind? WHAT and THAT! You can't take that shit the fuck back! I said it on the mic, now anyone else is biting! And I said that, without writing! Fine. Lately I write my hooks down. And I don't have to look down. But when I do it, I'm the one looking stupid. On this microphone, I'm the nicest, and I hone in to my zone. But this mic belongs to Spud. Charles belongs to love, and Charles is in love with a chick in a thong.
(hook)
Madder, because of magick,
and I don't want you to have it!
Madder, because of magick!
My flow is automatic.
Madder, because of magick.
Do you want me sadder?!
Abra-FUCKING-cadabra!, nigga.
Abra-FUCKING-cadabra!, nigga.
Abracadabra!
(verse 3)
Get your story straight, before your story gets straight. Shorty BEEN straight. More than a sensei. I bench weight. Like I'm moving coke. A lot people are wishing I was still thinking about a UFO reunion. So, here we go. Can I get them green guys back? I seem alive, in fact, when I rap. But I climax inside of some chick and can't get my vibe back. And then she killed herself. My vibe is dead. And I'm nice from the head. And I ain't gotta write. But, instead, just to impress, I let muthafuckas know I am too stressed to be blessed. Now, what a fuckin mess did I said. Instead me being so messy in my head, let's bring all of those shadows into the light. And see who's an asshole, or who wants to battle and fight.
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bars.
#beseated
