Magic (feat. Future)


[Verse 1: T.I.]
Off the top I'm bossed up
You ain't talking money don't talk to us
I'm steady stacking that guac up
Ball harder than you when I'm locked up
You the type of nigga that pop up
When niggas rolling that kush, huh
Got mine growing like grapevines
In the back yard, come look, bruh
I pull up, hop out, bad ho just pop out
Hating nigga better watch out
Still riding with that Glock out
My style so mean til it's hostile
And aggressive dawg, come check your dawg
Spend a couple of mill, no stress at all
Big bank roll, no checks at all
FYI I'm flexing y'all, game A1 professional
You small ball like golf balls
I basketball, go ask your broad
Tell her legs open sesame
Abracadabra she wet for me
Like ta-da, voila, Gucci, Louie, Stravers, Prada

[Hook: Future]
Fishtailing out the parking lot leaving Magic
Two bad bitches and I got 'em out of Magic
The way I made it work, disappear, call it magic
Sipping on the Purple and the Yellow, drinking Magic
Voila, magic, voila, magic, voila, magic, voila, magic
Fishtailing out the parking lot leaving magic
Sipping on the Purple and Yellow, drinking Magic

[Verse 2: Future]
On my way to Aspen, I forgot to do my taxes
Call up my accountant, he gon' make it do magic
Had to get a driver just to drop me at the airport
Way I smoked the Blunts man I burned 'em up like Newport
Fifty thousand dollars on superstar attire
K.E. and Young Future bringing them fire
All this damn cash make a bitch wanna retire
Gotta drop a half a brick you wanna put me on a flyer
Excuse me but my lingo crazy
See these diamonds ain't none of 'em fugazi
Two bad bitches wanna fuck me the greatest
AMG in a brand new Mercedes
Turn out the lot I'mma do a 180
For the haters I'mma go ahead do it 360
Drinking on a Sprite got Lean all in it
I'm a astronaut nigga better church my pimping


[Verse 3: Future]
Billionaire boy that's true inspiration
Learn to astronaut kid no such thing as limitation
Flying down 20 in the motherfucking spaceship
Just left Magic in the motherfucking basement
Two bitches trailing in a Beemer out of Germany
Got a thing for me, don't want a thing from me
They like my energy, not my Embassy
I know tricks like Criss Angel
I don't trick but I could make you famous
You could disappear from your past life
You'll reappear, no outta sight
I'm Pluto talking, to Jimmy walking, when you walking
I used to be fly but now I'm hawking
I rose on Earth and now I'm sci-fi, voila
I stay high, my bitches on they high horse
I double back like two cups
And crawl out in that new Porsche