G.O.M.D.歌词
作词 : Jonathan Smith/Jermaine Cole/Eric Jackson/Ron Gilmore/Dwight Andrews/Deongelo Holmes
作曲 : Jonathan Smith/Jermaine Cole/Eric Jackson/Ron Gilmore/Dwight Andrews/Deongelo Holmes
Producer：J.Cole
Writer：J.Cole
Sample：Berta,Berta(1992)—Branford Marsalis
Hollywood Cole, go
Ay Hollywood, ay Hollywood Cole, go
My n!gga done went Hollywood
You wanna know just where I'm at, well let me tell you 'bout it
I put my city on the map but let me tell you 'bout it
They tryna say I can't come back, ayy let me tell you 'bout it
Man **** them n!ggas I come back, ayy let me tell you 'bout it
I wanna tell you 'bout it: hands up, everybody run
Cole outside and he say he got a gun
N!ggas like "Man that's what everybody said"
Go and pop the trunk and everybody dead
Everybody scared of the n!gga, aware that the n!gga is better
All my b!tches the pick of the litter, never bitter
N!ggas is fake, they anime
Me I never hate, get cake like Anna Mae, whoa
Eat the cake b!tch, eat the damn cake
**** good, n!gga, we demand great
Order Domino's and she take off all her clothes
N!gga you know how it goes, make the pizza man wait
The best kept secret
Even Hov tried to keep it and I leaked the damn tape
Rest in peace any n!gga want beef
Secret service couldn't keep the man safe
I said to the window, to the wall
My n!gga ride when I call
Got b!tches all in my mind
**** n!gga blocking my shine
I know the reason you feel the way
I know just who you wan' be
So everyday I thank the man upstairs
That I ain't you and you ain't me
Get off my d!ck, whoa
(Get the **** off my d!ck)
Get off my d!ck, whoa
(Get the **** off my d!ck n!gga)
Get off my d!ck, b!tch, whoa
(Get the **** off my d!ck)
Get off my d!ck, whoa
Man **** them n!ggas I come home and I don't tell nobody
They gettin' temporary dough and I don't tell nobody
Lord will you tell me if I changed, I won't tell nobody
I wanna go back to Jermaine, and I won't tell nobody
This is the part that the thugs skip!
Young n!gga never had love
You know, foot massage, back rub sh!t
Blowing bubbles in the bathtub sh!t
That is until I met you
Together we done watch years go by
Seen a river of your tears go by
Got me thinkin' bout some kids, still I
Tell them hoes come through (The break up)
Get to know somebody and you really learn a lot about 'em
Won't be long before you start to doubt 'em
Tell yourself you better off without 'em
Then in time you will find can't walk without 'em
Can't talk without 'em, can't breathe without 'em
Came here together, you can't leave without 'em
So you walk back in, make a scene about 'em
On your Amerie it's just 1 thing about 'em
It's called love, n!ggas don't sing about it no more
Don't nobody sing about it no more, no more
It's called love, n!ggas don't sing about it no more
Don't nobody sing about it no more
(N!gga I don't sing about this sh!t no more)
But every n!gga in the club singing
To the window, to the wall
My n!gga ride when I call
Got b!tches all in my mind
**** n!gga blocking my shine
I know the reason you feel the way
I know just who you wan' be
So everyday I thank the man upstairs
That I ain't you and you ain't me
Get off my d!ck
But every n!gga in the club singing
Singing this song yeah
Got all the b!tches in the club singing
Singing this song yeah
And all they mamas let their kids sing it
Sing this song yeah
The baby mamas and the mistresses
Sing this song yeah, song yeah
Song yeah, song song yeah
(The make up)
This sh!t is retarded, goddamn
Why every rich black n!gga gotta be famous
Why every poor black n!gga gotta be brainless
Uh, that's a stereotype
Driven by some people up in Aerial Heights
Here's a scenario
Young Cole pockets is fat like Lil Terrio
Dreamville, give us a year we'll be on every show
Yeah, **** n!gga I'm very sure, heh
**** the rest, I'm the best n!gga out
When I'm back home I'm the best in the South
When I'm in LA I'm the best in the West
You contest? You can test, I'ma stretch n!ggas out
Oooh I'ma stretch n!ggas out
That go for all y'all if I left n!ggas out
This sh!t for everybody on my ********s
Please make sure you put the rest in your mouth, ho
作曲 : Jonathan Smith/Jermaine Cole/Eric Jackson/Ron Gilmore/Dwight Andrews/Deongelo Holmes
Producer：J.Cole
Writer：J.Cole
Sample：Berta,Berta(1992)—Branford Marsalis
Hollywood Cole, go
Ay Hollywood, ay Hollywood Cole, go
My n!gga done went Hollywood
You wanna know just where I'm at, well let me tell you 'bout it
I put my city on the map but let me tell you 'bout it
They tryna say I can't come back, ayy let me tell you 'bout it
Man **** them n!ggas I come back, ayy let me tell you 'bout it
I wanna tell you 'bout it: hands up, everybody run
Cole outside and he say he got a gun
N!ggas like "Man that's what everybody said"
Go and pop the trunk and everybody dead
Everybody scared of the n!gga, aware that the n!gga is better
All my b!tches the pick of the litter, never bitter
N!ggas is fake, they anime
Me I never hate, get cake like Anna Mae, whoa
Eat the cake b!tch, eat the damn cake
**** good, n!gga, we demand great
Order Domino's and she take off all her clothes
N!gga you know how it goes, make the pizza man wait
The best kept secret
Even Hov tried to keep it and I leaked the damn tape
Rest in peace any n!gga want beef
Secret service couldn't keep the man safe
I said to the window, to the wall
My n!gga ride when I call
Got b!tches all in my mind
**** n!gga blocking my shine
I know the reason you feel the way
I know just who you wan' be
So everyday I thank the man upstairs
That I ain't you and you ain't me
Get off my d!ck, whoa
(Get the **** off my d!ck)
Get off my d!ck, whoa
(Get the **** off my d!ck n!gga)
Get off my d!ck, b!tch, whoa
(Get the **** off my d!ck)
Get off my d!ck, whoa
Man **** them n!ggas I come home and I don't tell nobody
They gettin' temporary dough and I don't tell nobody
Lord will you tell me if I changed, I won't tell nobody
I wanna go back to Jermaine, and I won't tell nobody
This is the part that the thugs skip!
Young n!gga never had love
You know, foot massage, back rub sh!t
Blowing bubbles in the bathtub sh!t
That is until I met you
Together we done watch years go by
Seen a river of your tears go by
Got me thinkin' bout some kids, still I
Tell them hoes come through (The break up)
Get to know somebody and you really learn a lot about 'em
Won't be long before you start to doubt 'em
Tell yourself you better off without 'em
Then in time you will find can't walk without 'em
Can't talk without 'em, can't breathe without 'em
Came here together, you can't leave without 'em
So you walk back in, make a scene about 'em
On your Amerie it's just 1 thing about 'em
It's called love, n!ggas don't sing about it no more
Don't nobody sing about it no more, no more
It's called love, n!ggas don't sing about it no more
Don't nobody sing about it no more
(N!gga I don't sing about this sh!t no more)
But every n!gga in the club singing
To the window, to the wall
My n!gga ride when I call
Got b!tches all in my mind
**** n!gga blocking my shine
I know the reason you feel the way
I know just who you wan' be
So everyday I thank the man upstairs
That I ain't you and you ain't me
Get off my d!ck
But every n!gga in the club singing
Singing this song yeah
Got all the b!tches in the club singing
Singing this song yeah
And all they mamas let their kids sing it
Sing this song yeah
The baby mamas and the mistresses
Sing this song yeah, song yeah
Song yeah, song song yeah
(The make up)
This sh!t is retarded, goddamn
Why every rich black n!gga gotta be famous
Why every poor black n!gga gotta be brainless
Uh, that's a stereotype
Driven by some people up in Aerial Heights
Here's a scenario
Young Cole pockets is fat like Lil Terrio
Dreamville, give us a year we'll be on every show
Yeah, **** n!gga I'm very sure, heh
**** the rest, I'm the best n!gga out
When I'm back home I'm the best in the South
When I'm in LA I'm the best in the West
You contest? You can test, I'ma stretch n!ggas out
Oooh I'ma stretch n!ggas out
That go for all y'all if I left n!ggas out
This sh!t for everybody on my ********s
Please make sure you put the rest in your mouth, ho
