Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sunny Kim, artist - Nick Peace
Date of issue: 24.01.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sunny Kim |
With the money and the drugs I can’t resist |
Like a frog princess that needs a woman’s kiss |
The way I get down is a tragedy |
They say, «Yeah nigger, Your Majesty» |
Mind goin' blind in the whim |
Cover my eyes with the front of my brim |
My still is the lady, yeah sun duck kim |
I’ma 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 worn by Isis |
Blowin' on weed in the eye of the storm |
Gettin' snuck in the back of girl’s college dorms |
Homie now what? |
Roll this blunt. |
Nigga watcha 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’ma Capricorn |
Man in a whim |
I tip my brim |
Still laxing kim, why ch’ou fuckin' with him? |
Why you fuckin with him? |
Pass the joint |
Fillmoe Lakeview Hunter’s point |
24/7 there’s junk to sell |
An' no fairy tale |
An' I wish you well |
Because when I make bail |
It’s like the flames of hell |
Or bullet shells that tip the scale |
Or be washed around |
Cause it’s electric |
You can detect it |
You mother fecked it |
It’s gettin' kind of hectic |
He’s gettin' kind of restless |
Mother fuckers out there say dat he’s the bestest |
I rides around in my car, |
thinkin' about money and ménage a trios |
No I’m not a star |
Blaze this fly |
Me and my nigga talk shit at the bar |
Hahh |
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 keen, nicky underwear |
Ya pipe for a vine? |
Little sher khan says «why smoke vine, it doesn’t hurt your moms |
And it keeps me calm |
And that’s how I’m God» |
You gotta keep it sticky like Charlotte’s Web |
Blow a sack on a track, on a baller’s bed |
Hold out your hand baby, I’ll read your palm |
Like Kymo don, |
My game is on |
There’re 32 papers in a zig-zag pack |
It take two hos 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 |
And tell the grim reaper you’ll catch the God |
So fresh. |
(So fresh) So clean, (So clean) |
You’ll see Nicky T on flight six-14 |
Like Billy Sims I tip my brim |
And Sunny Kim, why you fuckin' with him? |
Across state, 'cross county lines |
In your alpine is the master mind |
Picture my Van Gough, Your flow 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 Hyphee |
Gin and coke Wu-tang in the Nikes |
I could never cheat the game in my life, see? |
O-khan I react like a Pikie |
My ki' |
Then Sunny called, Did you hear the phone |
Because a real rap lord’s been left a long |
It’s like rap-capone |
With dallas chrome |
Or Love Jones all in your bones |
Treat a girl like a freak, then send her home |
Like a ice-cream cone |
My heart is cold |
I’m kind of bold |