album cover
BRACKETS
91,078
Hip-Hop/Rap
BRACKETS was released on April 20, 2018 by J. Cole P&D as a part of the album KOD
album cover
AlbumKOD
Release DateApril 20, 2018
LabelJ. Cole P&D
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM80

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Vocals
Grant Green
Grant Green
Sampled Artist
Richard Pryor
Richard Pryor
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Songwriter
Alan Bergman
Alan Bergman
Composer
Marilyn Bergman
Marilyn Bergman
Composer
Quincy Jones
Quincy Jones
Composer
Richard Pryor
Richard Pryor
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
J. Cole
J. Cole
Producer
Juro "Mez" Davis
Juro "Mez" Davis
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Lots of shit happen like being in show business
A lot of shit happens
Like, like I make a lot of money, you know
And I'm really happy about it, I'm not bragging
I just want to say, I make so fucking–, it's ridiculous
But wait, wait a minute, wait
If my father was alive today
I would go home and say
"Dad, I'ma tell you how much money I make"
You know what he would say?
"You's a lying motherfucker
Joe Louis didn't make that much money
Coming here to–, get you ass out the house
Coming with that bullshit"
[Verse 1]
**** hating on me, I ain't used to that
Know a couple people wanna shoot for that
I say no, no, no, chill it, ain't no need for that
Them **** tryna blow and they need me for that
And if it work for them, well shit, I'm cool with that
Plus how they feel, I ain't got shit to do with that
I just sit back on cool and watch my paper stack
And trip off how much bread them crackers take from that
[Refrain]
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
[Verse 2]
It's been a long time since I have felt this way
About something, but now, but now
I'm controlling my mind, the days are warm
The nights are cool, the lost is found, I'm found
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
[Verse 3]
Hell yeah, boy, I'm a got-damn millionaire now
Hell yeah, ****, **** can't tell me shit now, boy
Hell, no, fuck that
Bitch, got my first motherfuckin' million-dollar check
****, I'm lit, boy, you crazy as hell
Hold up, it's my phone real quick
It's my Unc, Uncle Sam and shit
Wassup Unc!
Yup, hell yeah
I told you that check was coming in, I got you
Came in, goddamn, I'm a man of my word
Goddamn, I told you I'ma have it
And goddamn I'ma have it for you, shit, damn right
Well how much, how much was it though?
Huh? Huh? Half? Half?
****, you crazy boy
You crazy as a–, bitch, you crazy as fuck
Bitch, bitch, you better suck half my dick!
[Verse 4]
I pay taxes, so much taxes, shit don't make sense
Where do my dollars go, you see lately I ain't been convinced
I guess they say my dollars supposed to build roads and schools
But my **** barely graduate, they ain't got the tools
Maybe 'cause the tax dollars that I make sure I send
Get spent hiring some teachers that don't look like them
And the curriculum be trickin' 'em, them dollars I spend
Got us learning 'bout the heroes with the whitest of skin
One thing about the men that's controlling the pen
That write history, they always seem to white-out they sins
Maybe we'll never see a Black man in the White House again
I write a check to the IRS, my pockets get slim, damn
Do I even have a say 'bout where it's goin'?
Some older **** told me to start votin'
I said, "Democracy is too fuckin' slow"
If I'm giving y'all this hard-earned bread, I wanna know
Better yet, let me decide, bitch, it's 2018
Let me pick the things I'm funding from an app on my screen
Better that than letting whack congressmen I've never seen
Dictate where my money goes, straight into the palms
Of some money hungry company
That make guns that circulate the country
And then wind up in my hood makin' bloody clothes
Stray bullet hit a young boy with a snotty nose
From the concrete, he was probably rose
Now his body froze and nobody knows what to tell his mother
He did good at the white man schools, unlike his brother
Who was lost in the streets all day, not using rubbers
So right now he got two on the way
Still sleep on covers in his momma house
She can't take this shit no more, she want him out
On the morning of the funeral just as she's walking out
Wiping tears away, grabbing her keys and sunglasses
She remembered that she gotta file her taxes, damn
[Outro]
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Written by: Alan Bergman, J. Cole, Marilyn Bergman, Quincy Jones, Richard Pryor
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