Sunny Kim by Andre Nickatina Lyrics
With the money and the drugs I can't resist
Like a frog prince that needs a woman's kiss
The way I get down is a tragedy
They say "Yeah Nicky, you're a majesty!"
Mind goin' blind in a whim
Cover my eyes with the front of my brim
I'm still with my lady, yeah sun duck kim
I'mma say it right here:
Why you fuckin' with him?
Why you fuckin' with him?
I'm a jewel-lord Jim
Like somethin' that's priceless borne by Isis
Blowin' on weed in the eye of the storm
Gettin' snuck in the back of girl's college dorm
Homie now what?
Roll this blunt!
Nigga what 'cha drinkin' out your new pimp cup?
Alcohol, yeah, with a little cranberry
Hit it long enough it start to taste like cherry
I'm in the door
Blow on the horn
These freaks be thinkin' that I'mma Capricorn
Man in a whim
I tip my brim
Still ax'ing kim, "why you fuckin' with him?"
"Why you fuckin with him?"
Pass the joint:
Fillmoe, Lakeview, Hunter's point
24/7 there's junk to sell
No fairy tales
An' I wish you well
'cause when I make bail
It's like the flames of hell
Or bullet shells that tip the scale
Homie watch the rail
'cause it's electric
You can [detect] it
[You mother fecked it]
It's gettin' kind of hectic
He gettin' kind of restless
Mutha' fucka's out there say he the bestest
I rides around in my car
Thinkin' about money and ménage a trios
No I'm not a star
Blaze this lah
Me and my nigga talk shit at the bar
Hah!
Nah freak you can't braid my hair
So you can have me outta line like Huggy Bear.
I got clothes to wear
That don't compare
I get a flat, get a new car;
Fuck a spare!
In my fresh new King Nicky underwear
Yeah, Paco Rabanne
Little Shere Khan sayin' "why smoke [bomb cause I hurt your moms]
And it keeps me calm
And that's on God."
[(Shht!)]
You gotta keep it sticky like Charlotte's Web
Blow a sack on a track on a balla's bed
Hold out your hand baby; I'll read your palm
Like [kimo] [don]
My game is on
There' 32 papers in a Zig-Zag pack
It take two hoes to make one track
They say Huey Newton took two in the back
What's up with that?
My dialog is in the rap catalog
Until the grim reaper, yo, [catch] the God
So fresh. (So fresh.)
So clean. (So clean.)
You'll see Nicky T on flight 6-14
Like Billy Sims I tip my brim
Sayin' "Sunny Kim, why you fuckin' with him?"
Across state, 'cross county lines
In your alpine is the master mind
Picture my van Gogh, [yo, flow and design]
You wanna hear a cat' rhyme that I hope is mine
"Come here, yeah baby" is my open line
"You gotta pretty face."
Dis' pisces[i]'s hyphy!
Kenneth Cole, Wu-tang in the Nikes
I could never cheat the game in my life, see?
{On Khan] I react like a Pikey
[Mikey]
Then Sunny called. Didja hear the phone?
Because [my] real rap lord's been left alone
It's like Ralph Capone
Without his chrome
Or a Love Jones all in your bone
Treat a girl like a freak then I send her home
Like a ice-cream cone
Heart is cold
Khan y'er bold
[(Shht!)]
[(Shht!)]
This' all I got
Like a frog prince that needs a woman's kiss
The way I get down is a tragedy
They say "Yeah Nicky, you're a majesty!"
Mind goin' blind in a whim
Cover my eyes with the front of my brim
I'm still with my lady, yeah sun duck kim
I'mma say it right here:
Why you fuckin' with him?
Why you fuckin' with him?
I'm a jewel-lord Jim
Like somethin' that's priceless borne by Isis
Blowin' on weed in the eye of the storm
Gettin' snuck in the back of girl's college dorm
Homie now what?
Roll this blunt!
Nigga what 'cha drinkin' out your new pimp cup?
Alcohol, yeah, with a little cranberry
Hit it long enough it start to taste like cherry
I'm in the door
Blow on the horn
These freaks be thinkin' that I'mma Capricorn
Man in a whim
I tip my brim
Still ax'ing kim, "why you fuckin' with him?"
"Why you fuckin with him?"
Pass the joint:
Fillmoe, Lakeview, Hunter's point
24/7 there's junk to sell
No fairy tales
An' I wish you well
'cause when I make bail
It's like the flames of hell
Or bullet shells that tip the scale
Homie watch the rail
'cause it's electric
You can [detect] it
[You mother fecked it]
It's gettin' kind of hectic
He gettin' kind of restless
Mutha' fucka's out there say he the bestest
I rides around in my car
Thinkin' about money and ménage a trios
No I'm not a star
Blaze this lah
Me and my nigga talk shit at the bar
Hah!
Nah freak you can't braid my hair
So you can have me outta line like Huggy Bear.
I got clothes to wear
That don't compare
I get a flat, get a new car;
Fuck a spare!
In my fresh new King Nicky underwear
Yeah, Paco Rabanne
Little Shere Khan sayin' "why smoke [bomb cause I hurt your moms]
And it keeps me calm
And that's on God."
[(Shht!)]
You gotta keep it sticky like Charlotte's Web
Blow a sack on a track on a balla's bed
Hold out your hand baby; I'll read your palm
Like [kimo] [don]
My game is on
There' 32 papers in a Zig-Zag pack
It take two hoes to make one track
They say Huey Newton took two in the back
What's up with that?
My dialog is in the rap catalog
Until the grim reaper, yo, [catch] the God
So fresh. (So fresh.)
So clean. (So clean.)
You'll see Nicky T on flight 6-14
Like Billy Sims I tip my brim
Sayin' "Sunny Kim, why you fuckin' with him?"
Across state, 'cross county lines
In your alpine is the master mind
Picture my van Gogh, [yo, flow and design]
You wanna hear a cat' rhyme that I hope is mine
"Come here, yeah baby" is my open line
"You gotta pretty face."
Dis' pisces[i]'s hyphy!
Kenneth Cole, Wu-tang in the Nikes
I could never cheat the game in my life, see?
{On Khan] I react like a Pikey
[Mikey]
Then Sunny called. Didja hear the phone?
Because [my] real rap lord's been left alone
It's like Ralph Capone
Without his chrome
Or a Love Jones all in your bone
Treat a girl like a freak then I send her home
Like a ice-cream cone
Heart is cold
Khan y'er bold
[(Shht!)]
[(Shht!)]
This' all I got