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9 5 . s o u t h

9 5 . s o u t h

J. Cole

The Off-Season

2021-05-14

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J. Cole

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J. Cole

作詞:   作曲: Killa, it's The Off-Season Let's keep it tall, y'all ain't fuckin' with my man And don't check your watch, you know the time Cole World, Killa Cam', niggas is fuckin' finished (Yeah) This shit too easy for me now Nigga, Cole been goin' plat' since back when CDs was around What you sold, I tripled that, I can't believe these fuckin' clowns Look how everybody clappin' when your thirty-song album do a measly hundred thou' If I'm bettin' on myself, then I'll completely double down If you hated on a nigga, please don't greet me with a pound I be stayin' out the way, but if the beef do come around Could put a M right on your head, you Luigi brother now Trace my steps all in this game, you could see we cover ground Back and forth from NC to New York when Jeezy had the crown Vivid memories, niggas start to squeeze, we duckin' down So many shells left on the ground, it make the Easter Bunny proud I get up, dust my clothes off, sleep is the cousin of death No plans to doze off, the streets, it don't come with a ref' I never sold soft, just creeped where the hustlers crept And got they O's off, you reach, niggas uppin' like Steph To blow your nose off, gesundheit, and then resume flight As if it never happened, shit we witnessed full of so much sickness Angels sheddin' tears in Heaven, word to Eric Clapton Off this clever rappin', bitch, my pockets gon' forever fatten They gon' forever fatten See, we tried to tell niggas They act like they don't even fuckin' speak English Bitch, my pen to the paper's lethal I'm sendin' 'em straight to meet the The nigga that made them, peep the reaper Creepin' on ya, the scent of failure reekin' on ya Check your genitalia, pussy-niggas bleedin' on yourself Fuckin' with Cole is bold, but it's impedin' on your health All yo' niggas eatin' off your wealth All my niggas feedin' all they selves, and it feels swell Krispy Kreme dreams, sometime my dawgs wanna kill twelve (Uh) 'Cause they steady harassin' We seen dilemmas like Nelly and Kelly that end in the deadliest fashion My young niggas nutty, they blastin' Bullets be hummin' like Cudi but one of yo' hoodies Spaghetti-O splashin' All over the driveway, y'all talkin' all sideways Shots poppin' off, y'all laid down Cops chalkin' off y'all legs now (Shit) God watchin', "Hey, Yahweh" My niggas looked up to the sky like we sendin' 'em y'all way (Y'all way) We sendin' 'em y'all way (Y'all way) That's what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout Y'all see what the fuck goin' on out here (Killa, Harlem) I-95 shit, Carolina, 2-6, stand up, nigga Put your hood up Put your hood up Put your hood up Put your hood up Put your clique up Put your clique up Put your clique up Put your clique up Represent your shit, motherfucker Represent your shit, motherfucker Represent your clique, motherfucker Represent your clique, motherfucker If you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club If you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club
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