Magical Man - Lack Of Afro, Lack of Afro feat. Kennzo

Yeah, I got a little story to tell

It’s about a boy named Peter I knew a long time ago

I always used to see him on the corner

On a block (You know?)

Let me tell you a story and I’ma tell it well

Boy from a city of madness, call it a living hell

Pockets always empty, his brains lacking the cells

Lack of bright ideas so he rather go into sales

Of the white magic

You can hear the panic in his talk

His gun heavy, you can see the lean in his walk

He barely made it past a teen, you can see that

Even in his sleep he’s thinking 'bout the dollars

Busting through the seams

What you tryna say?

(He's a mean motha, watch your mouth)

Little Peter got the heater, little dude is the man

Gold chain, wife beater, tooth pick in his hand

Front porch, all the fiends come to Neverland

Little bit of the pixie dust from Peter Pan

He’s making the neighborhood fly (Fly)

His lows profit from your highs (Highs)

His pockets expand with every little bag

Turned a rock into a diamond, what a magical man

What you tryna say?

(He's a mean motha, watch your mouth)

Magic Man is for the people

The fiends feverishly fiending for freedom

From his devilish hands

Devilish man with the devilish plan

To have devilish little treats on every corner you stand

'Cause evil’s always greater when it’s high in demand

He don’t discriminate, everybody inside of his bag

The more souls he collects, the richer the man

The richer the soil from every body he plants, you see

Peter always had a knack for peddling crack

Smack, anything you need (I promise, anything, man)

He lives in every single block, he lives in the heart of the man

Whose mind is trapped in the gutter tryna climb through the trash

Tryna reach the top any way that he can

The fast life seems the fastest way out

But little Peter, man

Little Peter dug his grave while he was tryna climb out, uh