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Correct Black Magic (Make It Better) Lyrics
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Artists: L
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Little Brother
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Correct Black Magic (Make It Better)
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Lyrics:
[Intro: Rapper Big Pooh] LB Bidness! Alright, alright, alright Yeah! Alright, alright, alright [Verse 1: Phonte] Yeah, uh Black skin, black faces, black people make black magic So pay me every fuckin' dime and add taxes Cop a feel in a room full of brass tactics I been about that work, boy, I been ASCAP'in You been lyin' 'bout yo bread, nigga you axe cappin' You really 'bout that life or you just hashtaggin'? [Verse 2: Rapper Big Pooh] You really self made or is you CashApp'in? Doin' everything you can to make the cash happen? These new niggas do a whole lotta back slappin' See you win without they help, then they golf clappin' No applause in my trophy hall I'm still focused on the goal and not what's hangin on the walls Listen, all I need is the sports channel, and a glass of your finest red, you feel me? Ha! [Chorus: Madison McFerrin, Phonte, and (Big Pooh)] You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Yea!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Oh!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Come on!) You can make it better why don't you, love? Yo, I sat down and I started writing you this letter I'll never make it perfect, just tryna make it better You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Alright!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Go!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Alright!) You can make it better why don't you, love? [Verse 3: Rapper Big Pooh] Black skin, black faces, black people make black magic Cut from a different cloth, you know the finest fabric That's intertwined in our DNA You go to work, whether you corner boy or starrin' in the NBA Even if you never left the porch, gotta know you pray 'Cause once they put you in the game, gotta know the play [Verse 4: Phonte] And when it's time to leave the game, take a bow and say "Thanks for the warm welcome, I ain't tryna overstay" Good timin', the importance of, I can't overstate Drop facts over hot wax like Odelay The killer type on a thriller night like Ola Ray It's close to midnight, get right and let's motivate I need my ginger ale, and 5 lemon peppers All flats, nigga Let's go! [Chorus: Madison McFerrin, Phonte, and (Big Pooh)] You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Come on!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Yea!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Come on!) You can make it better why don't you, love? Ayo, I shed a tear when I started writing you this letter (Ooh yea, yea) I'll never make it perfect, just tryna make it better (I just wanna make it!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Alright!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Uh huh!) You can make it better; why don't you, love? (Ok!) You can make it better why don't you, love? (I just wanna make it!) (Alright!) (Alright!)
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