Rick Ross - Black Magic lyrics

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Rick Ross - Black Magic lyrics

[Hook: Rick Ross] Poof! There go the car Poof! There go the crib Poof! A hundred mil WOO! David Copperfield David Copperfield David Copperfield [Verse 1: Meek Mill] Could you knock that ho, could you blame that b**h? Cause she wanna roll with a real n***a like me thats gon' slang that dick Like coke to a fiend, f** throat on the lean Take low on the Perc, now that ho on a bean Still money over these hoes Got YSL on my clothes And blood drip on my sneakers n***a, you hating on me -- she chose And I ain't f** your girl she rode My stick-shift she drove Did everything that she 'posed to I pulled my camera out and she posed And I was like, got that Drop that, pop that Got the top back on the dropback, I'm back And the Glock at where the crotch at, I'm strapped All the rocks at where the watch at, stop that Could you cop that? Not that I'm like send the mob at, dimesack I'm catching on contact Got racks, y'all n***as ain't 'bout that, 'bout that life! [Hook] [Verse 2: Meek Mill] Poof! n***a f** your life f** your n***as and f** your wife (f** 'em!) Got two bad b**hes with a n***a And you know they gon' f** all night (Right) And I rock hard white n***a rich game pride I'll pull up on who*es and I'm sitting on fours, in a big boy drop Call big boy shots, all clear stones in my big boy watch All year long, got the strip on lock Everytime we in this b**h, man, sh** gon' pop My hip on Glock, your hip on nothing My n***as got racks, y'all n***as be fronting Red Cartier, redbone b**h Red bottoms on her, hair long as sh** (Hold up) Yellow gold Ro', yellow bone ho And yellow bottles of Spades, n***a Whole clique self made, n***a [Hook]