Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Nicers , by - CYNE. Song from the album Water For Mars, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 05.12.2019
Record label: Project Mooncircle
Song language: English
Nicers |
| Slick body cools, move gravel on the side |
| Grind nine to five as if some petty crime |
| Stop on the time and flip lemons and limes |
| Stay fresh to the death and steps into the CYNE |
| Tastes like water, you is heavenly father |
| Never lost my hair so never needing a barber |
| The wall can’t stop me, baby, so why bother? |
| So bust Hollywood, I’ll move to Valhalla |
| Crazy, amazing, still life’s a painting |
| Picasso a fossil, Michelangelo save me |
| Pain all around. |
| My God, the gods crazy |
| Zeus ran the juice with shock, but Pac’s angry |
| Oh did he hold it? |
| Watch and wonder shows it |
| He more like Thor with whores and through the motions |
| Yes I sip PBR in the mornings |
| Tanqueray and juices makes the truth flawless |
| Grey like goose, I’m loose so beg pardon |
| Everyday’s Saturday |
| He’s out of the office! |
| Night life like Anime. |
| Do the Bartman |
| Raddest shit, baddest shit—ask Cartman |
| Nutty as Cudi, right? |
| For dead presidents, I pledge no allegiance |
| Meaning? |
| I’m now a resident |
| It’s sick with the liquid ink, son of a linguist |
| Way too cunning for y’all, I’ll extinguish |
| Petty flame, everything, find the pop shit |
| It must be illusion so grand, it’s microscopic |
| Rep West Africa—home to many prophets |
| Courts with big dicks prescribe plain logic |
| Home of the wisest, Pulitzer’s for prizes |
| Did he come fuck with that? |
| I’ll advise you |
| Lowlifes to roll like some broke-ass socialites |
| Party over here. |
| Haha, it’s all right |
| Fucka! |
| Yes we gone pop the shit if they want it |
| Rappers on looseless makes the truth flawless |
| Grey like goose, I’m loose so beg pardon |
| Everyday’s Saturday |
| He’s out of the office! |
| Yes, baby, I’m matching. |
| I’m so polo classic |
| Like Johnny Walker with his Walkman blasting |
| Dianetics, so my engrams are better |
| Bordello especial—we relapse together |
| So, yes, with double fist. |
| Don’t go ask me for shit |
| ‘Cause everything you get, you gotta work hard for it |
| In my Solo Cup, mix the shit that’s luscious |
| Got a direct hit on your battleship |
| Damn, he a phantom, so Cobra Commander |
| He drunk as a skunk, Bacardi, yo, in the Fanta |
| Look at him dancing, get at me honey |
| Haha, I’m such a Casanova |