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Aldivino - Magic Powder Lyrics

[Intro]
Whatever your thoughts when I sprinkle you with this magic powder
They will become a hundred times greater
You will become more frightend
If your breathin'
You will become braver

[Interlude: Estee Nack]
Yo, y'all niggas shit is mad brand, fam, word
Word to, word to Sandro, know what I'm sayin'?
Rest in peace and all that, ayo, son

[Verse 1: Estee Nack]
About the steak house came a thousand figures
Shit pilin' up, you browsin' the internet (Woah!), and the house project
Caught 'em countin', nigga probably (Fuck wrong with you?)
Fuck this simple nigga, the fuck up out my personal space, bounce
Beat the next ounce, some fucked up shit, fill in the pain (Ah!)
Slug hit your beam (Bow-bow-bow!)
Mysteries and chemic kinetic energie, exchange the vessel
Sent 'em to outerspace, it's gon' flame (Boom!)
Find novacane, bitches be fallin' like Lois Lane (Oh!)
Tryna fuck with the Nack, the trap powder with gold chains (Woah!), roll the 'caine
Walk with a limb slight to the right side (Yeah)
Don't get foolish with this nigga, you might die (Bow!)
Mad numbers in my head while I'm starrin' up at the nightsky (Countin')
Hyper violence, son, bright eyes (Yeah)
Tryna get money like the drug dealers and white guys (Woah!)
And forfeit (Aha), get off quick (Bow!)
Confidential coordinates
Connect, it came from Cornish, she confident (Cornish!)
Karma conscious, niggas gettin' what they deservin' fast (Aha)
Sauce drip, she gettin' a long whip (I love 'em!), give 'em strong dick (Yeah!)
Yo, yeah
One hundred percent THC oil for [?]
Big black firearm spittin', hittin' targets on some cop shit (Bow!)
Continental content (Yeah!)
You lookin' like comedy strip, nigga (You niggas funny!)
[Interlude: Estee Nack & al.divino]
Yeah (Fuck wrong with you, nigga, man?)
Yay!

[Verse 2: al.divino]
Ayo
Dry fronto, roaches in the bathroom, bad news (Woah!)
Aha, b-b-b, bad news
Kaboom and blast off
Kaboom (Brrt!)
Alchemy (Brrt!)
'Bout to make a lot, soon
We 'bout to make a lot, too (Yeah!)
Mustard, count on the table top, take your time (Krrt!)
It's a lot to digest
Food for thought (Woo!)
Vintage low Hi-Tec (Blow)
Pussy wet like shit you mix with Sprite
Got the itch to hit a lick tonight (Blow-blow-blow!)
Most can't even listen right, son (Nah!)
Death, dumb and blind [?] (You heard?)
Your mind somewhere on the shelf (Rusty)
With dust on it
Rock you for dolo, the Scat heavy, Hennessy (Blow-blow-blow)
Hit the connect, drip plenty (Oh, ya)
Stripes like
Stripes like Freddy, flip 'fetti (Woop)
Semi auto, twelve hollows, the doors auto (Bing-bing, bing, bing-bing-bing-bing-bing-bing-bing)
Better luck tomorrow
Need some novacane, commas, we 'bout dollars (Yeah)
[?] luggage, drama in the air, fuck it (Swoop!)
[?] like it's nothin' (Yeah)
Sniff in the kitchen cupboard, cut it (Ay!)
This shit ain't shit unless somebody wanna uncover it (That's my word, take it, you heard?)
We runnin' this
Run for all that (Run), not a cent that ain't mine
[Outro: al.divino]
I need all 'em dollars
All them dollars, these motherfuckin' 'fetti
[?] all that
Gi-gi-gi-gi