9th Wonder - Blue Magic Revisited Lyrics
[Verse 1]Yeah, so what if you flip a couple words?I could triple that in birdsOpen your mind you see the circus in the skyI’m Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey with the piesNo matter how you slice it I’m your mother*****in guyJust like a b-boy with 360 wavesDo the same with the pot, still come back beigeWhether right or southpaw, whether pot or the jarWhip it around – it still come back hardSo easily do I W-H-I-PMy repitition with wrists’ll bring you kilo figuresI got creole C.O. *****es for my niggasWho slipped, became prisoners, trees taped to the visitorsYou already know what the business isUnnecessary commissary boy we live this shitNiggas wanna bring the 80s backThat’s okay with me, that’s where they made me atExcept I don’t write on the wallI write my name in the history books, hustle in the hall (hustle in the hall)Nah, I don’t spin on my headI spin work in the pots so I can spend my bread[Hook]And I’m gettin it, I’m gettin itI ain’t talkin about it, I’m livin itI’m gettin it, straight gettin itGe-ge-ge-get get get it boy(Don’t waste your time fighting the lifeStay your course, and you’ll understand)Get it boy[Verse 2]It’s ’87 state of mind that I’m in (mind that I’m in)In my prime, so for that time, I’m Rakim (I’m Rakim)If it wasn’t for the crime that I was inBut I wouldn’t be the guy whose rhymes it is that I’m in (that I’m in)No pain, no profit, P I repeat if you show me where the pot is (pot is)Cherry M3?s with the top back (top back)Red and green G’s all on my hatNorth beach leathers, matching Gucci sweaterGucci sneaks on to keep my outfit togetherWhatever, hundred for the diamond chainCan’t you tell that I came from the dope game?Blame Reagan for making me into a monsterBlame Oliver North and Iran-ContraI ran contraband that they sponsoredBefore this rhymin stuff we was in concert[Hook][Verse 3]Push (push) money over broads, you got it, ***** BushChef (chef), guess what I cookedBaked a lot of bread and kept it off the booksRockstar, look, way before the bars my picture was getting tookFeds, they like whack rappersTried as they may, couldn’t get me on the hookD.A. wanna indict meCause fish scales in my veins like a piscesThe pyrex pot, rolled up my sleevesTurn one into two like a SiameseTwin when it end, I’m a stand as a man never dying or admiring theseLast of a dyin breed, so let the champagne popI partied for a while now I’m back to the block[Hook]
