even though this song isn't on the album can we please talk about cole's verse?
the conviction and truth within those bars are to potent
Death to the imposters, label me the king
My dreams could win Oscars, my nikkas turned mobsters
My white friends doctors, fatherless child
Listen how I got this knowledge is wild
Streets taught me, speak softly nikka watch from the crowd
Cause any nikka that's loud, just want attention and eventually
blaow
No fake nikkas allowed in my circle dawg
You been through half the shyt I been through it'll hurt ya dawg
Tread softly, my nikka moving state to state running late watch 'em
Tryna avoid state troopers, that's the weight watchers
Run this dope set this cake till they say "Gotcha"
Or till the fat lady sings, and nikkas hate operas
And Oprah hate nikkas
Make no mistake that we know the stake still, we hope to make over eight figures
Slim chances, but nikkas bet against the odds and who am I to criticise how you play your cards dawg
[Verse 3: J. Cole]
Look, I never admit it, tryna get my brother acquitted
Yo' tell the judge I be happy to pay him off if he's with it
My flesh and blood, hauled off to the cell
I search for heaven as I see him getting lost in this hell
Headed for coffin or jail,
to never try is the ultimate fail
But love is wanting more for someone than they want for themselves
Deep, I guess I love a lot
Because the more I do my thang the more I feel the guilt and shame that my brother's not
Reminisce as we was kids screaming "fukk a cop"
Guess he took it serious, for me that shyt was just for props
Arms too skinny to hug the block
I found comfort in my dreams, of things seen on the screen of fortune and fame
Decisions, decisions, the Porsche or the Range
I take a trip back to the 'Ville only corpses remain
Some of them nikkas still breathing but they dead inside
Victims of a genocide
Tears fill my eyes dawg