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nick-nice - long way to go lyrics

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officer, are you flipping cause i flipped it?
im of that double oct on my sixty-six sick sh-t
my laces knotted up, so you know i’m never trippin’
i’ve never missed a day i’m like a jr. cal ripken
but call me teddy ruxpin who’s cuttin” up the husbands
i think you’re leaking s-m-n, cause you were always nuttin’
i am not a goon, nor am i a goblin. ye may be a monster, but i’m more of a problem
so call ’em and pile on. come on kids keep tricking parents get that smile on
i bought sheeps boutiques for you to try on. oh, you bought a gun. you’re looking cute you little try hard
well you’re ’bout to die hard. get buried in my side yard, while i’m stark and barking up the wrong tree
looking for an answer in a muh f-ckin glossary
(im) a mockery of a sh-t and privileged mixed suburban kid
i got them parents steaming like a beard with a turban
im a sure twerp servin’ merlins perved purp curin’ raps stagnation with creations from my dark imagination
a laceration to your brain. i’f you don’t like me then ignite me
but be careful. more then likely when you light me you’ll excite me
because i’m the opposite of predictable. that’s why i went and threw my crucifix inside a crucible
i raised the decibels to levels more exceptable for trying to help my friends get some b-tt on their t-st-cl-s
cause i could give a f-ck about aesthetics
that’s why i ride around in a dookie named red.(d-ck) seen more guts than a city paramedic
how vulgar, but how poetic once you get it

its a long way to go> before i reach the top > before the panties drop > but im on my way

i hope these hatin’ cro mags get toe tags
so i can finally fly off, b-tch, to los ang
maybe buy a couple bottles of some cognac, and throw a party like the video for “no hands.”
plus, invite a lohan. i don’t know there’s no plans
all i know is i’m broke and ninety five’s a joke, man
man, all i wanted was to go h.a.m. but the city that i am reppin’ is more obsessive over romance
“what about the ladies nice?
all i want is no pants. skinny dipping women. f-ck fishing. i want pole dance
“but what about holding hands, nice, or slow dance
who am i? mahatma ghandi spinnin’ chopin!
i’m roping and doping. there’s cocaine on my c-ck can you smell what i’m flopping?
there’s no compression to my aggression. expressions keep you guessing and testing you debra messing’s
i’m messing with a lester of lesser imagination
who is eatin’ in my eden. the seed of my creation
with fresh water and even fresher constellations
welcome to my state of mind, nice’s sovereign nation



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