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9TH WONDER FT. JAY-Z & CURTIS MAYFIELD lyrics : "Blue Magic"

[Verse 1]
Yeah, so what if you flip a couple words?
I could triple that in birds

Open your mind you see the circus in the sky
I'm Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey with the pies
No matter how you slice it I'm your mother$#&@in guy

Just like a b-boy with 360 waves
Do the same with the pot, still come back beige
Whether right or southpaw, whether pot or the jar

Whip it around ? it still come back hard
So easily do I W-H-I-P
My repitition with wrists'll bring you kilo figures

I got creole C.O. (*##$es for my ^!$$%s
Who slipped, became prisoners, trees taped to the visitors
You already know what the business is

Unnecessary commissary boy we live this %#@!
^!$$%s wanna bring the 80s back
That's okay with me, that's where they made me at

Except I don't write on the wall
I write my name in the history books, hustle in the hall (hustle in the hall)
Nah, I don't spin on my head

I spin work in the pots so I can spend my bread

[Hook]

And I'm gettin it, I'm gettin it
I ain't talkin about it, I'm livin it
I'm gettin it, straight gettin it

Ge-ge-ge-get get get it boy
(Don't waste your time fighting the life
Stay 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 in

But 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 hat
North beach leathers, matching Gucci sweater
Gucci sneaks on to keep my outfit together

Whatever, hundred for the diamond chain
Can't you tell that I came from the dope game?
Blame Reagan for making me into a monster

Blame Oliver North and Iran-Contra
I ran contraband that they sponsored
Before this rhymin stuff we was in concert


[Hook]


[Verse 3]
Push (push) money over broads, you got it, $#&@ Bush
Chef (chef), guess what I cooked

Baked a lot of bread and kept it off the books
Rockstar, look, way before the bars my picture was getting took
Feds, they like whack rappers

Tried as they may, couldn't get me on the hook
D.A. wanna indict me
Cause fish scales in my veins like a pisces

The pyrex pot, rolled up my sleeves
Turn one into two like a Siamese
Twin when it end, I'm a stand as a man never dying or admiring these

Last of a dyin breed, so let the champagne pop
I partied for a while now I'm back to the block


[Hook]

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