Black Mags lyrics Lyrics

song lyrics Black Mags lyrics Verse (Chuck): I got this 89-90, Pistons champ flat/ bill black starter cap with the hologram tags/ White Mag rims, red rubber tires/ Chain, frame, pegs, grips, shift to my supplier/ Dope man attire, gimme bout an hour/ And I ll have it clicking, ticking, gliding, flying like McGuyver/ I m a Murder Club, dope pedal rider/ Nigel said I m good to get that ink on my bicep/ I gets, busy as a bee on my bike grips/ If I catwalk this, I walk, I can fly this/ Bitch and I m fly, and it s tied to the side/ that s the flag that I m flying/ Add to the fact that it all coincides with these wheels that I m riding/ 3pt Mags make you think that I m gliding/ ... Shiiiit nigga I aint lying/ I got a long rap sheet that ll say that I m tied in/ Chorus Verse (Mikey): I hit chuck on the pager yo, I m kinda bored/ And got class til later so, open garage/ And I don t really know which way to go, I aint tryna skate it though/ And my bikes illegal, so they send for the law/ But I don t care joe, I just keep on pedalin/ Ride past shorty light skinned with no melanin/ Shirt look like somebody stuffed two melons in/ Had to stop, so I could preach like revered/ I grip on the handbrake and say "Whatup?"/ I skip on the handshakes, I m straight. What else? / I got two pegs on the back, and you got two legs under your skirt/ So ho, we head/ To the Dope Pedal Headquarters/ You would be there if you could/ Chuck got the red wheels and the white mags, but it s all good/ Got the gold hundred spokes like Boys in the Hood/ With the lime green frame, dollars on the bike/ Seat, handlebar grips, is the same as my Nikes/ In the mold, the gold I use for my spokes/ And the frame, the same as I use for my chain/ Out! Chorus song lyrics