Lyrics The Cool Kids – Black Mags, Pt. II
Text:
Pull a cat, walk up the block in them new grand heels
it’s ’96 and my mama won’t let me live
I put them rims on the Schwinn like it’s rims on the Benz
Red mags with the white, slick BMX tread
Your top five, full of lies without me and Mike in it (For real)
It’s cool, I ain’t trippin’, you niggas know on the low
Speaking code even zeroes known I been the one, nigga
Pedal down the foothills, wheelies on the front
My dog, hey, I’m tryna do a millie in a month
Me and Tony at the crap, take a break and down a nug
And it’s big coin hoes, girls stand in the club
I had the old box bought, Range Rover, it was black
Ask me how I got it, you know, a lil’ this and that
Shit start to sound like a trap, I had to disconnect
Gave Chuck a call on the text, but he ain’t hit me back
Niggas so ungrateful, receipts is gettin’ brought up
Gave him years full of game, and they still ain’t called
From the gear to the chains to the gears to the frames
And the tears and the pain came the things we thought of
From the handlebar grips to the dollars on my bike seat, my mags
From the handlebar grip to the dollars on my bike seat, my mags
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black
The black mags on the Dino, Juan stole it from this white boy
Big bag full of hydro, he was frontin’ the zips
Sendin’ bowls from Colorado, you know, that’s the model
If they sendin’ we don’t know you, then he cuffin’ your shit
Screw the pegs on the front, cuz, roll with the strap
I’m the hammer and the nail, they was buildin’ a trap
My nigga went to jail and he left me his bike
Yo, I hit the block like stoplights, watch for them cop lights
Dino rubber wheels, put a nigga in the highlights
Now I roll ivory bone, dice color off white
But my bank account’s in the black, Barker not nice, whoa
I’m whippin’ hot spice in the kitchen
Was the only lil’ niggas ridin’ bikes on Division
The skinny jean jokes really put me in position
Now we wave our flags, we outlast the competition
From the handlebar grips to the dollars on my bike seat, my mags
From the handlebar grip to the dollars on my bike seat, my mags
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black
Black, black, black, black, black, black
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black