Cookin Magic

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Big O yeno & Glitch Kid

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(Now, here is our fantastic One Pot Magic)

Scrap racists, your beats an raps both basic
Para kid float down an count faces
Glitch without patience, dribble mouth razors
Look, you know the flow so outrageous
Learn the difference between a squeak when a rat or a mouse makes it
(You call this a Glitch?)
Shout phrases, my toes touch sound pavements
Uh, treat my tongue to renowned flavours
Ey, salt an pepper the broth
My breath is a Heckler an Koch, dressed in impeccable cloth
Pontificate, selectin a weapon to box
Look, aimin for your neck, I aggressively chop
Nintendo boss, step on your head till ye drop
Poly golly, (chkkk), suspect I should check on my cough
Incredible crops when my energy's off
These days only Californian medical stock, uh (whiff)
Reprimanded, guess am stranded
Got the New York cap for the small gaff gettin landed (know tha)
My pen game branded with the gold standard
Right wing gimps backhanded (Glitch)
Hard bars, apex lyricist
Faint stress limited if you say less ignorance
Latex implemented for safe sex diligence
Cos when I f*ck the world I don't want to a spec irritant

Gonna stay disciplined for the business end
Cos gimps on the internet gon' make me lose me shit again
Ye not me friend, clench me fist a bit, yeah, am sittin vexed
Defuse me temper using tokes of ched, shit, am whiffed again
Listen then, I kill a silly whiffer in a mini fixture
Dish mixer in me diddy drink an sip it from a pitcher
Miss, hit the volley, prolly still hit ye with a belter
Sit still, mister, me skills made a divvy of ye
Yeah, I'll cause a misdemeanour on a silly dreamer
Spittin heat, foreseein the future an givin mates a booster
Gettin used to losers abusin their youth, it's too amusin
Ban boomers hearin this music cos they'd feel too foolish
Get used to this, lad, you're not stupid
Youse know Big, Glitch an Linc got some groovin
Smoothin, movin shit for the rap students
Oozin old school drip, the last muses
Son of Zeus, rippin through youts with a smooth grip
Too sick for human bruises, don't turn blue quick
Grip the fruit from its root, bite the crisp skin
Boost my soul with the cold flow that you're witnessin
Shit, lad, fuckin really hope you're listenin
Three scouse blitzes fixin up this bliss again
Ye prayin for saviours of the game, start finishing
Since we've landed, lad, ye don't need to wish again
Mmmmm

(It's absolutely delicious)
(Hot Pot, yes)
(Witchcraft, Magic spells and potions
Magical Glitch in the system)
(Playing with Magic)
(Am I a musician?
Or am I a magician?
No tricks, just real shit straight out the kitchen
Pure Magic)
(I have a lot of tricks in my bag)

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