Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Vince Staples
Vince Staples
Vocals
Mustard
Mustard
Programming
Corey Henry
Corey Henry
Keyboards
Nick Lee
Nick Lee
Horn
Evelyn "Champagne" King
Evelyn "Champagne" King
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Vince Staples
Vince Staples
Songwriter
Lewis Hughes
Lewis Hughes
Songwriter
Dexter Wansel
Dexter Wansel
Songwriter
Dijon McFarlane
Dijon McFarlane
Songwriter
Jacob Wilkinson-Smith
Jacob Wilkinson-Smith
Songwriter
Nicholas Audino
Nicholas Audino
Songwriter
Theodore Life
Theodore Life
Songwriter
Nick Lee
Nick Lee
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mustard
Mustard
Producer
Lewis Hughes
Lewis Hughes
Producer
My Best Friend Jacob
My Best Friend Jacob
Producer
Nick "Unknown Nick" Audino
Nick "Unknown Nick" Audino
Producer
Mark "Spike" Stent
Mark "Spike" Stent
Mixing Engineer
Matt Wolach
Matt Wolach
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Hayden Duncan
Hayden Duncan
Assistant Recording Engineer
David Pizzimenti
David Pizzimenti
Assistant Recording Engineer
Tyler Page
Tyler Page
Recording Engineer
Will Quinnell
Will Quinnell
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Kenny Beats
Kenny Beats
Recording Engineer
Chris Gehringer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
Nicholas Audino
Nicholas Audino
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
(Mustard on the beat, hoe)
[Verse 2]
Feelin' like I'm floatin' to the ceilin', is it magic?
Baby, tell me why you disappearin', this is magic
I won't ever tell 'em how I did it, it was magic
Can you imagine?
Money in the mattress, love the way I stack it
I can make it rain blue hundreds, can you catch it?
If somebody come through bluffin', I'ma blast 'em
And tell the police I don't know what happened
[Verse 3]
If I gave a fuck about a citch, I'd always be broke
I'd never get to pull up in a Benz with my locs
Growin' up, we was poor, so we hopped off that porch
With a gun, tryna blow, tryna kick down your door
But that's old news, spreadin' love now
Sick of police lights, sick of gun sounds
****' bread ain't up, so they come foul
But it's handshakes, hugs when I come 'round, wow
Funny style, hate to see a **** smilin'
Hundred miles and runnin' through the public housin'
Movin' mountains, fuck who I was stumpin' down with
Gunnin' down shit, sittin' in the back of Crown Vics
So janky, know them **** down the street still hate me
Hope lil' baby know that she can't play me
Dumb hoe, love cost but the game free, dumb hoe
[Verse 4]
Feelin' like I'm floatin' to the ceilin', is it magic?
Baby, tell me why you disappearin', this is magic
I won't ever tell 'em how I did it, it was magic
Can you imagine?
Money in the mattress, love the way I stack it
I can make it rain blue hundreds, can you catch it?
If somebody come through bluffin', I'ma blast 'em
And tell the police I don't know what happened
[Verse 5]
Crip and blood shit
That's the only thing I ever been in love with it
So I hope he know we never goin' public
Hands full so I can't hold grudges, nah
I be thuggin', jumpin' out the backseat bustin'
Everybody we be beefin' with be sayin' that they bleedin' shit
But see us and they don't do nothin'
Ah, put it on the dead locs
They know I been 'bout it-'bout it since the get-go
If I hit the corner quick and better get low
You ain't with it ****, what you from the set for, huh?
I just wanna be successful
You won't never ever see me with my head low
Momma met my daddy, then they had me in the ghetto
Handed me a thirty-eight and told me I was special, norf
[Verse 6]
Feelin' like I'm floatin' to the ceilin', is it magic?
Baby, tell me why you disappearin', this is magic
I won't ever tell 'em how I did it, it was magic
Can you imagine?
Money in the mattress, love the way I stack it
I can make it rain blue hundreds, can you catch it?
If somebody come through bluffin', I'ma blast 'em
And tell the police I don't know what happened
[Verse 7]
Feelin' like I'm floatin' to the ceilin', is it magic?
Baby, tell me why you disappearin', this is magic
I won't ever tell 'em how I did it, it was magic
Can you imagine?
Money in the mattress, love the way I stack it
I can make it rain blue hundreds, can you catch it?
If somebody come through bluffin', I'ma blast 'em
And tell the police I don't know what happened
[Verse 8]
See when you come from nothin', make it into somethin', I call that luck
But when you come from where we come from, I call that magic
And when you get two **** from different sides of the city
To do somethin' like this, I guess you could call that magic
Gettin' off of Section 8, welfare
Now it's Rolls Royces, private jets, that's magic
Let me know what's magic to you, yeah
Written by: Dexter Wansel, Dijon McFarlane, Jacob Wilkinson-Smith, Lewis Hughes, Nicholas Audino, Theodore Life, Vince Staples
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