Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mike WiLL Made-It
Mike WiLL Made-It
Producer
Pluss
Pluss
Producer
T-Minus
T-Minus
Producer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Mez
Mez
Mixing Engineer
Kuldeep
Kuldeep
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

What I need with ten cars? I can't drive but one This for my niggas listening in 3001 As I'm writin' through this song, this world's gone insane I know you feel me 'cause I bet that shit still ain't changed I'm on a mission for this chicken, I'ma kill everything I'm stackin' for a rainy day, and it still ain't rained Why niggas never open up? The answer had me chokin' up It ain't enough words around to reveal they pain I'm holdin' on tight to what it feel like to live a peaceful life Since ridin' a bike, all that I ever knew was beef and strife Goin' to sleep at night, prayin' that God release the stress Now I'm on G4 jets across the seas to decompress My recent checks, how much you think? Hmm, decent guess They growin' more eager, "Cole, who you gon' kill on a feature next?" Who would you suggest? My nigga just told me the streets a myth And he's perplexed, they tellin' on people like the teacher's pet He took a pull of his weed, he high as the trees where eagles nest I started chiefin' less and less, it had my cerebral vexed Too many blessings to be depressed Went from too stressed to being blessed Now, my new recipe's just keep that fuck shit from my desk I don't want shit but my breath, I don't want shit but my fam' Thought I used superglue, nigga, how this gun stick to my hand? I don't even tote no pistol, but that shit sounded so hard Plus, I don't give a fuck about lyin' Once I learned these niggas fraud I'm finna burn these niggas, dawg Bring me that urn-ee, nigga, char Cole, I'ma send 'em to crossroads with the lost souls I saw Nia Long quote I would've poked, back when my heart cold Give her three or four strokes Then I'm onto the next, shit like a par four I'm a raw-ass nigga, 6'4", tall-ass nigga With a sick flow, y'all ask Jigga How much did the kid gross for that label? Paid dues, had to pay dude for my masters, but I'm grateful Shit, business is business I'm in the Ville, the windows is tinted Keeping my dick in my britches, y'all get to the bitches Me, I'ma get to this money and split with the missus Nigga, this vicious, and I'm the truth All of these niggas fictitious Look at Jermaine, still runnin' the game Damn, this physical fitness Fuck with me, man What I need with ten cars? I can't drive but one This for my niggas listening in 3001 As I'm writin' through this song, this world's gone insane I know you feel me 'cause I bet that shit still ain't changed I'm on a mission for this chicken, I'ma kill everything I'm stackin' for a rainy day, and it still ain't rained Why niggas never open up? The answer had me chokin' up It ain't enough words around to reveal they pain
Writer(s): J. Cole Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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