My Boy [Freestyle] - Wale, J. Cole

Count me in, Cole

Right here?

(Nah, not yet)

Yeah, bounce, bounce

My boy, my boy

My boy, my boy, my boy

Yeah, right here?

Ay, look, uh, yo, okay

Concrete since day one, ain’t no time to make up

Ain’t no top on that hoe, like baby with the A-cup

Thank you for your services, invoicing all my haters

Be sure to leave your armor and your woman penetrated

I give her back, I hate her, poof, get out of here

I say congratulations, your old lady renovated

You niggas lazy, my boy, why you hatin', my guy?

You bought her Commes des Garçons

She come and play with your heart

I’m far from a popular artist, one of the hardest, no lesser

And I saw your woman, I caught her low like a Cardigan sweater

Call her whatever you want, I got my revenue up

In Beverly Hills, my ceilings like the Beverly brothers

Since day one, Folarin been the same one

I came up in them go-gos most of them was afraid of

Now kill mo', say that, now kill mo', say that

But when your wheel is a fortune, you ne’er gotta say jack

Don’t be talking too much, these niggas copy too much

These niggas cardio crazy, chasing clout must be tough

Fuck it, I wrote me, a dozen niggas got me fucked up

I raise my hands and raise your family’s casualties up

I’m faded, I’m playing

These niggas don’t be no gangster, they be paying it, yeah

Extortion ain’t dead, it just moved to the county

Shoot them out the S-class, I guess truancy the problem

I know every who and who and every hoodlum around him

And what you call a piece of mind, I call a picture for a bounty

Hold up, yeah, I’m in my luggage, in my luggage

Hold up, boy, I’m on the runway like I’m Duckie

Hold up, prolific, really be living my lyrics

So tell me who did it this big and who ain’t 'bout to slow up?

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

Who gon' bring my crown?

And who gon' try to fuck with me?

Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me

I don’t play around, don’t got that type of luxury

Bitch it’s going down, and ain’t no catching up to me

Yeah, stepped in the building with my vibe on a million

Slide on the beat like my God, I’m so brilliant

All other rappers, put your pride to the side

Try collide with the squad, turn your mob into corn on the cob

You’s a fraud, you’s a thorn in my side

I’m a knife in your back, I’m that turn of the knob

On the door when the boys from the corner come rob you

And tie you up to something, now stop with all that frontin'

That big money talk should be reserved for those that got it

But when you really got it, you ain’t pressed to talk about it

That’s why I hear that capping on your raps and highly doubt it

The game too crowded, I’m 'bout to get all the way the fuck up out it

No ifs, ands or buts about it

30 mil' on a deal depending on how the tour was routed

I seen your watch when you first dropped, that shit was clouded

Which means you used to fugazi shit

Fake it 'til you make it-type, I shoot through you crazy with

Hollow tips, no holler backs, just hotter raps

I gotta black to make sure every dirty dollar stacked

Y’all aiming for the stars, bitch, I’m aiming at your Starter cap

Run, nigga, run like a fucking black quarterback (uh)

Stereotypical, but to hear me is pivotal

I will bury you niggas and come and air out your funeral

Have your homies on stretchers right next to Roman numerals

IVs, IVs

It’s the reason why nobody try me, try me

Have a nigga screaming, «Lord, why me?

Why me?

Cole did me grimy

He took it too far, he treat them bullets like they Siamese»

Back to back, I clap like that’s a wrap

But no video shoots, just hoodies and boots

Puttin' your troops in pine boxes

I blew a million on white tees and Calvin Klein boxers

This nigga silly

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

My boy, my boy, my boy, say what!

Who gon' bring the crown?

And who gon' try to fuck with me?

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

I don’t play around, don’t got that type of luxury

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

Bitch it’s going down, nobody catching up to me

My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

Who gon' bring my crown?

And who gon' try to fuck with me?

Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me

I don’t play around, don’t got that type of luxury

Bitch it’s going down, and ain’t no catching up to me

Who gon' bring my crown?

And who gon' try to fuck with me?

Faded off the brown, and she can’t get enough of me

I don’t play around, don’t got that type of luxury

Bitch it’s going down, it ain’t no catching up to me

Who gon' bring my crown?

And who gon' try to fuck with me?

Faded off the brown, and she can’t get enough of me

I don’t play around, don’t got that type of luxury

Bitch it’s going down, it ain’t no catching up to me