J. Cole Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #108

Lyrics

Part I: "'93 'Til Infinity" by Souls of Mischief [Intro] Yeah [Verse: J. Cole & Justin Credible] Rest assured, the best is here in the flesh, and that's for sure The rest, should wear 'em a vest I'm set for war, nigga, press record I send niggas to address the Lord Same flow that put your neck to sword, the same flow that just undressed your whore Takeover, nigga, check the score This is chess, better check your board Who gave the world more fire, but got less reward? No stress, my only guess is that less is more More or less hundred G's in my dresser drawer (Woo!) I'm blessed, hope IRS don't arrest me for it, I'm new to it My new crib got the Times Square view to it My two bitches lay in my bed, I'm used to it That's your best friend givin' me head, now you do it (Haha, woo!) See, mami, it's not so weird After I hit, I cut you off like Picasso ear Van Gogh or whoever, goddamn, Cole, you're too clever Like a fuckin' James Brown sample, you're two-ever Times two, that's forever, more treble Meanin' more high-end shit on your level (Yes!) Put the fear of God in niggas, I'm pure Devil Walkin' contradiction my description Off the top, magician, compositions Nonfiction, shitted in the competition's Pot to piss in, gone, uh, so long, uh Saturdays, a nigga used to mow lawns, uh Nowadays, a nigga be eatin' prawns Fuck my bitch by the window, wave to the peepin' Toms, ugh Yes, I'm Carolina's finest (Yeah) Southern nigga with New York stamps, honest Out in Queens with the fiends, I'm your highness Cole World, don't mistake it for a sinus Infection, at this point, I'm just flexin' Bas is next in line, and the test is time Play the game right, nigga, he gon' rest his mom In the sands of Sudan where she rest her mind And find peace, 'cause her son'll be fine He got the city on his back, and I got him on mine (Come on) You think I'm lyin'? Shit, step one, got the 'Ville on map Shit I predicted in my raps, I done did all that (Yes) Next please, eat rappers, mmm, check please Here's a tip while niggas grip my testes You wan' shoot? Then shoot, don't play with me Hardest shit out the South since slavery, nigga [Outro: Justin Credible & J. Cole] Talk that talk! Hardest shit out the South since slavery, nigga J. Cole! Part II: "Still Tippin'" by Mike Jones [Intro: DJ SoulMalik & J. Cole] You rappin' You rappin' today, man Understatement You fucking with this right here? Eeesh! Classic Classic shit only, man It's a classic, oh, my Gosh L.A. Leakers J. Cole Ugh [Verse] Woke up this morning and wondered "Hey, should I get fresh or should I keep it humble?" My closet like Dover Street, used to be bummin' Some days, I'm still bummin', the difference is now, it's by choice Got dressed and peeped out the window These lil' niggas different, they don't play Nintendo They play with extendos, I hope you can limbo That chopper gon' spin you around like a judge on The Voice I'm from a city where most niggas never get lucky enough to see somethin' outside county limits I ran up the digits, I don't have no muh'fuckin' business complainin' about nothin' Ain't got no time or no patience for lists they be makin' or who they debatin' is better Let's face it, he one of the greatest, no Bill Cosby shit, but if niggas is sleepin', then fuck 'em (That's right, that's right!) Most niggas don't understand me, I don't do the GRAMMY's, I be in my jammies on sofa Most niggas don't understand me, Ferrari or Camry, I bet I look good in 'em both (Hoo, hoo!) Most niggas don't even get this, "Cole, how you on top but you don't got no bitches?" I know Most niggas don't even get this, if given the chance, they trade family for riches, I know Look at my ceilin', it's endless, I'm sick and these bitch niggas feelin' the symptoms It ain't enough vitamin C in they system to get rid of me, I'ma kill 'em relentless On top but I sound like I'm still in the trenches, I come from the 'Ville, I turn villains to victims Reach and see "R.I.P." fill up your mentions, a message for niggas that's feelin' ambitious [Outro: J. Cole] How come a nigga still ain't hit his prime? Ahh, you bitch, Off-Season comin' May 14th Fuck all y'all niggas, it's over for you I swear to God