Listen to Huntin’ Wabbitz by J. Cole

Huntin’ Wabbitz

J. Cole

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

J. Cole - Huntin' Wabbitz (Official Audio)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
T-Minus
T-Minus
Producer
Charlie Heat
Charlie Heat
Producer
Ibrahim Hamad
Ibrahim Hamad
Producer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Mez
Mez
Mixing Engineer
Kuldeep
Kuldeep
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Shh Be very, very quiet I'm huntin' wabbits Goddamn (uh) Fuck runnin' in place, I'd never do that My destination is runnin' the map I'll run in your trap like, "Run me your work 'fore somebody get hurt" Nigga, run or get clapped I ain't cool with these dudes, I don't fuck with these dudes I don't wanna show love, I don't wanna give dap I just wanna kick back, take trips, make hits Make big chips, stack 'til they tall as Kristaps Me and your squad is mismatch Your calves ain't strong enough to follow his path And you know the bitch bad if I brought the bitch back Let the chick ride stick like I taught her witchcraft Caught a whiplash when they saw the whip pass They like, "Okay, I see you," bitch, how could you not? I drove to CVS, copped a Plan B and I watched as she swallowed Bitch, I kid you not Can't take no risk in this game, my money grew But my ambition's the same Talk to me proper, you lookin' like Q at the locker I pop up how Bishop had came What's up? Niggas gon' put some respect on my name One way or another I work the whole winter to take over summer They late to the party 'cause they overslumbered Don't hop on it now, nigga, stay over yonder I'm on Rodeo, I'm bummy I'm 'bout to get fly like my layover comin' I promise I don't feel a day over 20 They hatin' from some far away and it's funny I'm clappin' at niggas like they owe me money Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, click Shit, now the clip lookin' like Chick-fil-A on a Sunday He keeps killing us, father He keeps taking and taking I want to Pop in a new one and let off again Always knew we was gon' get our revenge Aim at whoever ain't dead, I will win You thought 'cause I'm god of this rap shit that I'd just forget all the sins? Oh, how you wish He dope as a hundred and ten-hour binge Everybody say that they start at the bottom I don't care to doubt 'em, but this how it ends, nigga Look at you, son Look at what you've become This how it ends Never see no one get this high again Globetrotter shit, bitch, that's just how I spin Word to my palm, bitch, I'm too locked in I hit 'em up, bitch, I'm 2Pac twin Came up 'round sharks, so that's just how I swim Came up 'round sharks, so that's just how I swim (That's just how I swim) This how it ends Never see no one get this high again Globetrotter shit, bitch, that's just how I spin Word to my palm, bitch, I'm too locked in I hit 'em up, bitch, I'm 2Pac twin Came up 'round sharks, so that's just how I swim Came up 'round sharks, so that's just how I swim I'm sorry I'm so sorry for what I've done
Writer(s): J. Cole Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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