Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Vocals
Ron Gilmore
Ron Gilmore
Keyboards
Pete Whitfield
Pete Whitfield
Performer
Dave Linaburg
Dave Linaburg
Guitar
Joanna Maurer
Joanna Maurer
Performer
Annaliesa Place
Annaliesa Place
Violin
Ann Lehman
Ann Lehman
Violin
Suzanne Ornstein
Suzanne Ornstein
Violin
David Southhorn
David Southhorn
Violin
Shmuel Katz
Shmuel Katz
Viola
Milena Pajaro-Van De Stadt
Milena Pajaro-Van De Stadt
Viola
Desiree Elsevier
Desiree Elsevier
Viola
Kyle Armbrust
Kyle Armbrust
Viola
Jerry Grossman
Jerry Grossman
Cello
Maureen McDermott
Maureen McDermott
Cello
Mary Wooten
Mary Wooten
Cello
Christine Kim
Christine Kim
Cello
John Patitucci
John Patitucci
Bass
Rachel Calin
Rachel Calin
Bass
Jung Sun Yoo
Jung Sun Yoo
Violin
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Songwriter
Michael Giffts
Michael Giffts
Songwriter
Deborah Anderson
Deborah Anderson
Songwriter
Fabrice Dumont
Fabrice Dumont
Songwriter
Stephan Haeri
Stephan Haeri
Songwriter
Christophe Hetier
Christophe Hetier
Songwriter
Pete Whitfield
Pete Whitfield
Orchestrator
Ken Lewis
Ken Lewis
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
J. Cole
J. Cole
Executive Producer
Ken Lewis
Ken Lewis
Engineer
Juro "Mez" Davis
Juro "Mez" Davis
Mixing Engineer
Sam Giannelli
Sam Giannelli
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Mark Pitts
Mark Pitts
Executive Producer
Roc Nation
Roc Nation
Executive Producer
Tyler Hartman
Tyler Hartman
Engineer
Daniel Recinos
Daniel Recinos
Engineer

Lyrics

Ayo, ayo, ayo, ah, ayo, ah Ayo, ayo, ayo, ah Yeah I hate rich niggas goddammit 'Cause I ain't never had a lot, dammit Who you had to kill, who you had to rob Who you had to fuck just to make it to the top dammit Or maybe that's daddy money, escalator no ladder money Escalade, new caddy money Worst fear going broke 'cause I'm bad with money Crooked smile nigga momma never had the money damn I ain't trippin' A nigga Jordan, I ain't Pippen yeah Up the steps, I ain't slippin' Tears, blood, sweat and I ain't crippin', here's A song you can sing along with when you down On some let you know you ain't alone shit When your momma ain't at home 'cause she got a second job Delivering pizzas you think she out here getting robbed Please God watch her I know how niggas do Half cracker but a nigga too Talking all that shit 'bout your step-pops How he was a dog, now look at you I ain't bad as that nigga plus dawg I'm a grown man now I ain't mad at that nigga But if a plane crashed and it only killed his lame ass I'd be glad it's that nigga, nigga Did Kay dirty now it's back to broke Refund check she used that to float Momma gets depressed falls in love with the next maniac On crack use that to cope Make a nigga smoke a whole sack of dope Writing rhymes tryna bring back the hope Try to ride the storm out and crashed the boat Could've drowned, but I grabbed the rope And there go you And there go you And there go you Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew And there go you And there go you And there go you Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew Sing You got what I want I got what you need How much for your soul Anna How much for your soul Anna You got what I want I got what you need How much for your soul Anna How much for your soul Anna I hate rich niggas goddammit 'Cause I ain't never had a lot dammit Niggas can't front on the flows you got But every fucking verse how much dough you got Homie, don't quit now, hear my shit and tried to switch now Know you felt the shit just now, know you felt the shit just now Ain't there more to you? Don't it ever get boring to you? I realize deep down you a coward getting high off of power Fuck it more to you, saw through you And it made me ashamed that I played the game Not for more money like Damon Wayans Wanted the respect but it came with fame I just wanted love but this ain't the same I took a train down memory lane And watched little Jermaine do his thing before he made a name It's like Sony signed Basquiat He gave it all he got, and now the nigga don't paint the same, damn I guess he can't complain All the money that be raining in Spend a hundred thou for the chain again Thinking old school niggas like Dana Dane Probably kill for another claim to fame, my brain the same Yeah, nigga, at least he ain't insane At least he ain't insane You ain't crazy, motherfucker, you're just afraid of change That's new, maybe that's true But listen here I got a bigger fear Of one day that I become you And I become lost and I become heartless And numb from all the Ménages Just one bitch don't feel the same no more And Henny don't really kill the pain no more Now I'm Cobain with a shotgun aimed at my brain 'Cause I can't maintain no more Tad bit extreme I know Money can't save your soul But there go you And there go you There go you Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew And there go you And there go you And there go you Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew Sing You got what I want I got what you need How much for your soul Anna How much for your soul Anna You got what I want I got what you need How much for your soul Anna How much for your soul Anna How much for your soul Anna How much for your soul Anna
Writer(s): Christophe Hetier, Stephan Armin Haeri, Fabrice Regis Robert Dumont, Michael Anthony Giffts, Deborah Ann Anderson, Jermaine L. Cole, Ronald Eugene Gilmore, Cedric Brown Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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