lirik lagu b magic – ol skool
[intro: b magic]
uh, yeah
uh, check, yeah
y’all remember when
the good old days, uh
yeah, check
[verse: b magic]
i remember it was spade games h-tting at the table
king vitaman for breakfast, only basic cable
blue chucks on me, made a checkerboard with the strings
one blue, one gray, let ’em know i’m with the gang
had a ball in them saints days, ’bout to hit the palace
[?] my green to get more green, tryna make a salad
uh, you n-gg-s gotta love the good days
little n-gg-s walk up on you, “what’s yo’ neighborhood, treys?”
i was hanging in the jungle, i was swinging with gorillas
i’m the greatest n-gg-, ali, i’m the thrilla in manila
yeah i walk up on ya’ b-tch i like the way she wear her daisy dukes
her man didn’t like the game i spit so i let the .380 shoot
backyard boogie on the block
all on westgate, 732 was the spot
a bunch of westsiders, no f-cking with the cops
you gon’ slide through then slide through, no mercy for the ops
man i’m a ’80s baby, i grew up with some thugs
bunch of 5 trey [?] n-gg-s were selling drugs
before i was old enough, sadie’s was the club
my uncle had the beeno, they showed a n-gg- love
real sh-t ain’t gotta be put into a punchline
i’m real 24, you n-gg-s real sometimes
notice that the gun sound sounding like a drumline
i’m pac, nas, biggie, jay, 50, l combined
i thank god for seeing another day of sunshine
whenever you call me, i will be the frontline
‘member that i had to use to run away from one-time
couldn’t come outside, seen the homies out the sun blinds
mom kinda strict, but love her more than anything
she the one that raise me, and she give me anything
pops wasn’t around, he was like a rolling stone
i look just like him so he like my older clone
and i used to be a player, with all the little chicks
stayed at the movies, watching all the little flicks
i was popular, i was cool with all the little cliques
but i can’t say i grew up wearing all the newest kicks
i was tryna make a little money for the pocket
got robbed, now a little n-gg- got a rocket
so f-ck the chain, never been a big fan of watches
try me get the metal to your heart, that’s a locket, what’s popping?
remember foe was the first team
blowing big chronic at the young age of 13
my sister told me all about it, that ain’t the worst thing
i was on that send a n-gg- back into the earth thing
take a n-gg- [?], sneaking when i run up
b-mping bone thugs, i be creeping on the come-up
la gears on my feet, squeeze and pull the tongue up
at a scam party seen my homie cheese shoot the front up
i done been through horror, am i blowed? b-tch i might be
[?] with straps on it, rock it with a white tee
had to get the reeboks, no money for the nikes
all we knew was colors, but never met a ice-t
you ever heard of [?]? well welcome to the hood
moved into the ‘gates, they welcomed a n-gg- good
posted on the southside, they let a n-gg- jug
straight out of the jungle of ‘i wish a n-gg- would’s
i was leaving outta school and got jumped by some red-rags
maybe they wasn’t digging the color of my headband
caught they homeboy next week then i dropped him
lucky i ain’t had a banger, probably woulda popped him
where would i be now if a n-gg- woulda knocked him?
probably in jail because these n-gg-s like to gossip
living in the street, you gon’ know that the road rules
born in the ’80s, ‘yo b magic from the old school’
put the chronic on the table, told the homie “roll it up”
this chick wanna dance, i need somebody to hold me up
’90s was the sh-t, but the two double-oh’s cool
i trade all these new rappers for the old school’s
uh
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