primemagic. - thelonious lyrics
[intro: thelonious]
i’m tryna make it from the mud into this bread today
should probably keep a heat on my person before these n*ggas lay me…
[interlude 1: thelonious]
’bout time i talk my sh*t again
listen
[verse 1: thelonious]
sliding out the crib as i observe the block
it’s wicked on [?] them schemers creeping by the curb lot
that’s why i’m out the way [?] my purpose tryna earn my spot
i’m next up in my city, give a f*ck if you done heard or not
thelonious back outside and now these nerds ain’t got the nerve to drop
’cause n*ggas know i cook that kind of crack that make ’em squirm a lot
i’m magic in his prime the way i servе the rock
it’s [?] season, n*gga, be advisеd
could probably feel the heat around my side [?] rise
i walk this land of shadows seeing demons with the evil eyes
[?] with my fleet of [?]
k!llers and robbers gon’ plot [?] when tensions rise [?] if you [?] in the flesh
finna test your [?] never be on option to stop [?]
like run me them pockets you p*ssy n*gga, it’s not a request
the day them n*ggas come for mine with hopes that their wallet will stretch
i be sent to squabble with my squad [?]
and i bet we put the problem to rest, my n*gga
[chorus: thelonious]
i’m tryna make it from the mud into this bread today
way these blocks boys been creeping got me paranoid, it’s f*cking with my head today
should probably keep a heat on my person before these n*ggas lay me dead today
it’s trouble on the boulevard, i swear to god it’s f*cking with my head today
[interlude 2]
we about to be on some real murder sh*t, man
any n*gga that looked at me wrong is f*ckin’ dead
[verse 2: conway the machine]
in the 90’s [?] crack and cars got hot wired
police scanners saying “shots fired”
that’s everyday in my hood, b*tch
n*ggas selling yay and getting hood rich
[?] say “that’s some good sh*t”
that b*tch ate my d*ck, said “that’s some good d*ck”
i got some extras out so that’s a good whip
gang stood over a n*gga, gave him a full clip
you n*ggas p*ssy doing all that f*ckin’ woofin’
we don’t give no f*ck, n*gga, no f*ckin’ cushion
they don’t want machine [?] pushing
n*ggas jumping out of your bushes while you wasn’t looking
i’m in my bag, i’m doper than ever
we ain’t ducking [?] want smoke with whoever
a hundred mill’s closer than ever
feel like my plan is coming together
machine
[outro]
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