[Intro: Wale & J. Cole] Count me in, Cole Right here? (Nah, not yet) Yeah, bounce, bounce My boy, my boy My boy, my boy, my boy Yeah, right here? Ay, look, uh, yo, okay
[Verse 1: Wale] Concrete since day one, ain't no time to make up Ain’t no top on that hoe, like baby with the A-cup Thank you for your services, invoicing all my haters Be sure to leave your armor and your woman penetrated I give her back, I hate her, poof, get out of here I say congratulations, your old lady renovated You niggas lazy, my boy, why you hatin', my guy? You bought her Commes des Garçons She come and play with your heart I'm far from a popular artist, one of the hardest, no lesser And I saw your woman, I caught her low like a Cardigan sweater Call her whatever you want, I got my revenue up In Beverly Hills, my ceilings like the Beverly brothers Since day one, Folarin been the same one I came up in them go-gos most of them was afraid of Now kill mo’, say that, now kill mo', say that But when your wheel is a fortune, you ne'er gotta say jack Don't be talking too much, these niggas copy too much These niggas cardio crazy, chasing clout must be tough Fuck it, I wrote me, a dozen niggas got me fucked up I raise my hands and raise your family's casualties up I'm faded, I'm playing These niggas don't be no gangster, they be paying it, yeah Extortion ain’t dead, it just moved to the county Shoot them out the S-class, I guess truancy the problem I know every who and who and every hoodlum around him And what you call a piece of mind, I call a picture for a bounty Hold up, yeah, I’m in my luggage, in my luggage Hold up, boy, I'm on the runway like I’m Duckie Hold up, prolific, really be living my lyrics So tell me who did it this big and who ain't 'bout to slow up?
[Chorus: Wale & J. Cole] My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
[Bridge: J. Cole] Who gon' bring my crown? And who gon’ try to fuck with me? Faded off the brown, she can't get enough of me I don't play around, don't got that type of luxury Bitch it's going down, and ain't no catching up to me
[Verse 2: J. Cole] Yeah, stepped in the building with my vibe on a million Slide on the beat like my God, I'm so brilliant All other rappers, put your pride to the side Try collide with the squad, turn your mob into corn on the cob You's a fraud, you's a thorn in my side I'm a knife in your back, I'm that turn of the knob On the door when the boys from the corner come rob you And tie you up to something, now stop with all that frontin' That big money talk should be reserved for those that got it But when you really got it, you ain't pressed to talk about it That's why I hear that capping on your raps and highly doubt it The game too crowded, I'm 'bout to get all the way the fuck up out it No ifs, ands or buts about it 30 mil' on a deal depending on how the tour was routed I seen your watch when you first dropped, that shit was clouded Which means you used to fugazi shit Fake it 'til you make it-type, I shoot through you crazy with Hollow tips, no holler backs, just hotter raps I gotta black to make sure every dirty dollar stacked Y'all aiming for the stars, bitch, I'm aiming at your Starter cap Run, nigga, run like a fucking black quarterback (uh) Stereotypical, but to hear me is pivotal I will bury you niggas and come and air out your funeral Have your homies on stretchers right next to Roman numerals IVs, IVs It's the reason why nobody try me, try me Have a nigga screaming, "Lord, why me? Why me? Cole did me grimy He took it too far, he treat them bullets like they Siamese" Back to back, I clap like that's a wrap But no video shoots, just hoodies and boots Puttin' your troops in pine boxes I blew a million on white tees and Calvin Klein boxers This nigga silly
[Chorus: J. Cole] My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy My boy, my boy, my boy, say what!
[Bridge: Wale & J. Cole] Who gon' bring the crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me? My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy Faded off the brown, she can't get enough of me My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy I don't play around, don't got that type of luxury My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy Bitch it's going down, nobody catching up to me My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
[Outro: J. Cole] Who gon' bring my crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me? Faded off the brown, she can't get enough of me I don't play around, don't got that type of luxury Bitch it's going down, and ain't no catching up to me Who gon' bring my crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me? Faded off the brown, and she can't get enough of me I don't play around, don't got that type of luxury Bitch it's going down, it ain't no catching up to me Who gon' bring my crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me? Faded off the brown, and she can't get enough of me I don't play around, don't got that type of luxury Bitch it's going down, it ain't no catching up to me Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
|