Magic - Never Slippin'

Magic - Never Slippin'

Listen, I wouldn't give a fuck if I get Ross Perot rich
You'll never catch me slipping, that's on the one nigga
I keep shit tight cause I'm a solid nigga, you heard me
Even when I'm smoking on some doe-doe, or sipping on some mo-mo
I always keep the 4-4, what what

[Magic:]
You fucking with niggaz, that's bout chilling
You fucking with niggaz, that's bout killing and digging a lot of holes
You playing with grown men, that'll beat you to mush
No matter the money or power, you could be touched
Ashes to ashes, nigga dust to dust
You shorten your own life, when you fuck with us
See I was nurtured, by the bosom of the block
That told me in a heated situation, grab the glock and pop
Unil it stops and never turn back, you understand
Soon as you feel remorse, them niggaz got the upper hand
You'll never, catch this nigga slipping
My periferal vision, one big up on your on intentions so


So even when you catch me, smoking on the doe-doe
Or sipping, on a taste of mo-mo
I never leave the crib, without the fo'-fo' that's a no-no
Somebody leaving with a bo-bo, up in they go-go

[Magic:]
Repetitive niggaz I go against, they don't have a chance
They won't survive, they'll tell you I'm a hell of a man
I devour the weak, and dissesemble the strong
So called rappers, with song after song
When will the world understand, that I can't be stopped
It won't be as easy, as it was with Pac
I'm smarter now, took a situation and learned
Can't trust a nigga, cause niggaz'll get you burned
Watch paparazzi, a lot of stories'll turn
Trying to get you killed, behind the same money you earn
Shot my dog, scared of the power that he possessed
But it ain't over nigga, guess who's next



[Magic:]
Give me a reason, I'll open fire like it's kill-a-nigga season
You heathens, don't deserve breathing
I suck the life out of your body, with every word that I speak
And when I'm finished, I'm hoping that that you deceased
I keep my enemies close, watch they moves I ain't no fool
Just because, I dropped out of school
It's called common sense, and street smarts
Too much heart'll get you tossed in the park, nigga lost in the dark
I live the laws of my land, where it's kill or be killed
So don't question, if this pistol in my hand is real
Don't question if the stories, that you heard are real
Just understand nigga, this is how I was born for real