J. Cole ☆ Revenge Of The Dreamers

I’m on the zone which is all on fire
Nigga check my tire
Your worse fears confirmed
‘No application,I’m higher this year
‘that bitch to slash my nigga’s tire,oh,yeah
I know about you,bitch,I know about you,ok?
Came up on a good nigga,he ain’t have a clue about you
Tried gto tell that nigga
Don’t trust the bitch as far as you can smell a nigga
But you live and you learn
On this road to rich niggaz bound to miss a few turns
Don’t let the bridges that you cross turn into bridges you burn
You’re bound to miss a few turns
Don’t let the bridges that you
Fuck it,you don’t hear me
Look,I walk along this long harbor of life and sit on the ‘
Reflect on my pain and shit on my fears
Should I feel an ‘of guilt that I outdid all my peers?
Or write my name in the sky and show them niggaz I’m here?
This one is for the history books,picture me shook or failin’
This is revenge of the dreamers

Mistery took a million of my niggaz ‘ hopes from them
Don’t even know some of them
No more,the coke numbed them,no suicide notes from them
They are killin’ themselves ,slowly killin’ themselves
5 iPhones dropped,my nigga still in the cell
He said he found God,shit
I doubt it ,to ‘his own
Whatever keeps you strong to get up out it
We need you home
Cause see,a war is goin’ on outside ,I ‘cried
When that boy that the cops shot died
My mouth wide opened from the shock
Sick and tired and hoping it will stop
This pen the only hope that I got
I open up ,shot,and break out

Got what you want,got what you need
My heart on my sleeve ,watch me bleed,I break out
Dreamville is the team,my team ill and faints
And you ain’t real as you seem ,
And we can tell,nigga
Fuck what you think,cause if your shit don’t stink
Nigga my shit won’t stink,cause it can’t
I break out
I gotta break the fuck up out of here
Dreamville is the team,my team ill and faints
And you ain’t real as you seem ,and we can tell nigga

War stories,got tour stories
Pop 4 whores on the top floor stories
Niggaz know every verse is worth a brick of blow
Just a seven figure nigga ,got the game in figure 4
I know at times I’m hypocritical ,you niggaz dig it though
I fuck until my dick be sore,leave bitches walkin’ pigeon toe
And break out
On to the next bitch,homie
Your new chick ,that’s my ex-bitch,homie
In fact I’m still logged in her Netflix,homie
Just make sure she cooks your breakfast,homie
Her bacon slimmin’ but her eggs get ‘funny
So many bombs,you’d think Flex got money from me
Cold world but my neck gets sunny
Now I don’t fuck around with hoes from reality shows
Or blow up dolls,cause don’t like havin’sex with dummies,love me
No disrespect meant,honey,this is just a compilation of my observations
While trapped in this God-forsaken nation
Shit,but since we makin’ conversation
I’ve been thinkin’ me and you would make a bangin’ combination
I know that you mad ,I know what I said
But my dick be arguin’ with my head,all you with the bed
Well,if so,let’s break out