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J. ColeJ. Cole 

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J. Cole

Jermaine Lamar Cole (born January 28, 1985), better known by his stage name J. Cole, is a German-born American hip hop recording artist and record producer from Fayetteville, North Carolina. In 2009, he became the first artist to sign to Jay-Z's Roc Nation label. His long-awaited debut album titled Cole World: The Sideline Story was released on September 27, 2011. The album debuted at number one on the US Billboard 200, Top R&B Albums and Top Rap Albums chart, selling more than 217,000 in its first week sales. He received a nomination for Best New Artist at the 54th Grammy Awards. more »

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Yeah, you know?
Tana Talk 4, this shit mean a lot to me, know what I mean?
You know this shit don't feel as good as it look (Big Griselda)
I'ma keep it real with you (Black Sopranos Family)
I'm straight though (I'm good)
This street shit made me what I am today, nigga
Niggas know I went so hard for this shit
I deserve this shit, nigga (ah)
The Butcher comin' nigga

This ain't my story 'bout rags to riches
More 'bout how I mastered physics (uh-huh)
In the game, I used to train like Rocky, catchin' chickens (yeah)
I was nice, but they was right when they told me that rap a business (they was right)
I had ten bands in my stash when I passed over half a million
Come easily? No good, don't be surprised I outlast these niggas
It's like they put out a smash then they gone in a flash, admit it
And then they made tracks and diss us like that's gon' add up the digits (f*ck you doin'?)
They showin' fake racks in pictures like that's gon' attract the bitches (you goofy)
That was really me, nigga, I ain't have to act in Conflicted (nah)
Only difference is I'm livin', and I would've whacked one of 'em niggas
Who knew that after drug dealin' I'd still be casual spending mil' plus?
Annual income, so here's my manual then some
And this Eastside shit still in me, my ability
To turn words to imagery, prolly the reason they gon' remember me (let's talk)
Figure we walk this tightrope with a feline's agility
The streets did so much shit to me, I can never live civilly
I can never leave the scene without checkin' my mirrors visually (uh-uh)
Hm, come with that energy 'cause some shit gon' always stick with me
They wanna know what I brought to Griselda, I say, "Validity"
They askin', "What work y'all niggas put in?" I'm like, "What didn't we?"
Problems that I correct through the obstacles I progress
Illogical for them to feel they responsible for our success
Besides Con' and West, tell me who else I gotta respect (who else?)
'Cause I'm kinda perplexed, it's 'bout time that I got my respect
It's the Butcher, nigga
Ah, let's go

'Bout time that I got my respect, it's the Butcher, nigga
Yeah, Cole fuckin' World
Griselda shit, you know what I mean (Griselda)
Know what it is, nigga
When I show up
I'm on ten nigga, not nine

On the night I was born, the rain was pourin', God was cryin'
Lightnin' struck, power outage, sparks was flyin'
The real one's here, the young boy that walk with lions
Around the outlines of chalk where the corpses lyin'
Of course I'm tryin' to revive a sport that's dyin'
But the guns and the drug bars that y'all relyin'
Got these nerds thinkin' that you niggas hard as I am
But that just mean I ain't as comfortable as y'all with lyin'
Stretchin' the truth, no, I never stress in the booth
They feel the pressure, me I feel like I just left the masseuse
Effortless, how I'm skatin' on these records is proof
I put your favorite rapper neck in a noose, never lettin' them loose
Cole World, the heater blast through your speaker
He the last of Mohicans, no weaklings last in my sneakers
Nigga want me on a song, he gon' see the wrath of the reaper
I'm prolly gon' go to Hell if Jesus ask for a feature
I'm higher than niggas and don't need a bag full of reefer
Some see the glass as empty, I see a glass full of ether
Collectin' his bread in mass like he a Catholic preacher
Just to count a nigga cash, you might need a calculus teacher
Eureka, Einstein on the brink of the theory of relativity
Really no MC equal, feel me?
Cole pen be lethal, crib like an old MTV show, uh
On God, the best rapper alive
Headshot, now go and ask the best rappers that died
They tell you he never lied, nigga

Yeah, Tana Talk

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