Cult of The Damned – Nicole (Lyrics | Video)

Lyrics “Nicole” by Cult of The Damned feat. Bisk, Salar, Milkavelli, Black Josh, King Grubb, Bill Shakes & Lee Scott

I’m a one man army like Ason
There isn’t a problem
I’m not a miniature vodka bottle away from
I’m Jesus with a face on
The voice in me head is me only day one

Alas I have spoken
But ye have trouble understandin’ the notion
I speak in slang and me body language is broken
You’re gettin pimp slapped with an angular motion
Sharks swim to dry land when I stand in the ocean
I lap ye’ while I’m flaggin’ with me pants saggin’
Tappin’ a b**ch, with no hands, dabbin’
I’m stompin’ on your dreams like a chav dancin’
On me high horse, draggin’ the band wagon

Busy body
I’m not like like anybody
HMS, yeah that’s my waist
I got that fairy on me
Many many, mini money
Laigon Laigon, till they rest my body
La la, yellow Telly Tubby, blah blah
On the other side where its never sunny
With a bag full of that illy illy McGillicuddy
Hey, drinkin’ gin while I’m playin’ Gin and Rummy
616 I’m with Jim, but I ain’t my gym buddy
Hey, I’m from a world that is not the earth
I’m rockin’ pearls, but im not a girl, what on earth
Loss of words when I stop and twirl
Watch and learn
I tell my friends, watch them selves since I caught the nerve

Closed casket, I know they wanna see me dead
But those bastards, are only gonna see me sweg
I did drugs and can’t be normal again
Hit my barber up to shave both the horns on me head
Ay, Hell Boy little nicky in the bubble coat
I turn the greatest of all time into curry goat
My sweg, over the top like a rugby goal
I roll up and hit the spliff like my funny bone
Shoulda, coulda, woulda, but you wouldn’t though
Cover blown, I should of known your squad are full of p**sy holes
‘Sides you sorted my gang out with Stussy clothes
I use my Lui a rag to blow the yay out of me bloody nose

Uh, G-R-U double B
With my crown, golden gown, and a bud of cheese
Deliverin’ a month of public speech
Lyin’ through my discolored teeth
I’m what Yeezus wishes he could have been
I mean look at me, don’t mind if I do comfort eat
Most of these rappers are too glum to speak
Probably get cat-fished every other week
Real s**t, but the way I say it is beyond belief
Favorite color green, save the pollen for the honey bees
School thuggery, plottin’ on your currency, till I got a forest full of money trees

Angel dust nap
Raid your skunk stash
Scum bad, I blaze your blunt down in one drag
Vodka bottle ..
Care free, fryin’ rotten eggs in herb grease
Off me head, bombin’ Boba Fett, rocket fuel
Lost some screws, all aboard, or come across as rude
Throw you off a roof, rob your food
Whats true What isn’t The plot thickens
Couldn’t give a f**k if you heard me
You’re tied to the hood of a Merc’ driven 130 down the M6
Smuggled to Kirkby wrapped up in a curtain, and dumped in the Mersey
Slap a wack rapper for no good reason, f**k ’em
It’s open season

Life ain’t free but your honey is
Well f**k that, where the money is
Like, it’s a stick up, want the paper and the liquor
Some cigarettes for later and that bacon for my dinner
Yo, me and Slum we gonna ..
S**t, you made it to the top floor, but Bisk’s on the roof
Came for the loot, took his fisherman too
Stay spittin’ the truth
A b**ch or two, stay mixin’ my soup
Put this in the stereo and writ off the coup
Crawled out and started piffin’ a zoot
Your b**ch want the juice
Tell the truth, just been in it too
Keep a pack in my pocket like we sittin’ in school

I’m not befriendin’ him
Watch to the end of the block I’m sendin’ him
Not pretendin’ I’m god, I’m just resemblin’
Time is what the heroin after plot wants to spend with him
Lots beggin’ for attention, I’m not gon’ answer them
Next day I’m probably not rememberin’
Your whole style is poppy cock
Rocky boxing ’till your body drops
And skeleton flops, then I’m
Bellin’ your pops, and I’m tellin’ him off for such a negligent job
S is the mark
Givin’ lessons in chess while I’m gettin’ some top
I ain’t f**kin’ emo but I be sexin’ a goth on the lee-low
Anti-hero chico, semi-conscious rapper with a banker ego
Stackin’ zeros…

➤ Written by Bill Shakes, King Grubb, Black Josh, Milkavelli & Lee Scott
Album: Part Deux: Brick Pelican Posse Crew Gang Syndicate
Produced by Lee Scott
Cult of the Damned & Bisk & Salar & Milkavelli & Black Josh & King Grubb & Bill Shakes & Lee Scott 2019

Bill Shakes, Bisk, Black Josh, Cult of The Damned, King Grubb, Lee Scott, Milkavelli, Salar, on music store

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