Lyrics Niccolò - Jonathan Emile

Niccolò

Niccolò, Niccolò
Last night I dreamt of the sounds of a piccolo in a Firenze piazza with all my
fratelli
Tell me… why they Jelly?
I’m killing them softly
Sipping Tignanello
Tutto è bello
Niccolò, Niccolò
I do what I got to do
Niccolò, Niccolò
Autotune the dissonance
Black militants ain’t shootin'
Some looting cause they hungry in this game no scrimmage
Image awards with no substance
Black rappers lust for white privilege
Look in the mirror
Tone deaf Pitchfork era
Hipsters like they ancestors pillage our culture
Bald eagle that’s cousin of vulture
If you felt insulted then I meant to insult you word
Ask me «where I Bin?»
like Afghanistan
Jon E dep in the cut with the scissor hands
I’m the same old dude but with rubber bands
Shit poppin like soda can
And even if you fly, you still gotta land
They still asking why they don’t understand
I making money I’m done making promises
Yo I’m on a different plane like I’m fucking with Amishes
Master my vocals or master the game
Take an apprentice teach em how to laugh at the fame
During cancer I guess I learned to master the pain
I master my image and destiny like a platonic cave
Master before I doctor black like bubonic
Plague
With ibonics I slay
With No sonic delay
Pay attention is it’s free like
Like the soul of a slave
Write a refrain and write and refrain from sprinting in this marathon
Give a fuck about paragon — babylon babble on
Collaborator player hater
I’m focused like DOP
In this music industry oligarchy
I’d never stop the next man’s stride
Put that on the the cemetery
Making moves still feeling sedentary
I got bars like a mafioso that never flipped on his homies homey get to know me
know me
That clean money that lean money
Hella nice tho out for mean money
Man you know how Jamaicans be
When we bad we bad
When we good we irie
I and I like visine
My music crack like the space between
Let the it sink in like the road implode
Now you know my area code