Artist: J. Cole Album: The Warm-Up Song: Grown Simba Typed by: firstlinerhyme@gmail.com [Verse 1] Now I was dreamin' bout a deal at the age of thirteen I was fiendin' for the meals; I ain't talking Burger King Some of my niggas in the Ville all they did was serve fiends Fuck scales, I had skills: all day rehearsing Them pretty boys had them gals, spend their time flirting All they wanted was some waves like they fucking surfing Hold up now don't get it twisted, I ain't hatin', do your thing I was like a young Simba: couldn't wait to be the king Now, nigga, it's the prince Hopped over the fence, where the grass way greener Look at shorty ass way meaner Something like Serena mixed with Trina, have you seen her She fine enough to be Miss Howard, word to Adina My money like a senior watch it graduate Now its time to eat I'm letting all my niggas grab a plate Gravitate to real shit, stay away from phonies These niggas heard about me now they acting like they know me [Refrain] Where you goin' nigga Shit, there ain't no telling Ay, where you goin' nigga Ay, there ain't no telling They keep on saying where you goin' nigga There ain't no telling Can't tell you where I'm goin', just know I won't stop Goodbye to the bottom, hello to the top [Verse 2] Pardon the interruption A proper introduction is necessary when your shit is legendary, man Greedy niggas wouldn't let me in the cafeteria Cause they ain't believe, suddenly they Presbyterian The hoes is librarians, they looking me up She got a jones like Marion, she licking me up Then we cut, look how she say my name I got her moaning J. Cole, they used to say Jermaine I never change, I'm like a corpse in a coffin, 6 feet, shit's deep I was low, just a dolla and some hope fixed me Cause I was broke plus the weed that I would smoke would make it worser Lord, please let my problems disappear like Ron Mercer I'm a star, Converses Conversing with them girls with them curves like cursive They open like curtains because my shit is unheard of Like curses on the radio Same bitches used to play me though [Refrain] [Verse 3] I left the city for a minute but it's still on my back Told my niggas, "Ay I'm finna' put the Ville on the map" I'll be back, and I'm coming with a deal and a plaque Cause I'm ill bitch, they couldn't make a pill for the rap Pouring liquor for my niggas that was killed, send em back Came home shit is real niggas still in the trap Hold up now don't get it twisted if you slang do your thang Me I'm like a young Simba I can't wait to be the king Witness the dream Straight out that Carolina water I was brought up In the city where the skinny niggas tryna be the ballas Ain't no fathers but the skinny niggas tryna hit their daughters Sneaking in her crib but her momma never caught us What they taught us men them bad bitches only want the ballas The starters, we hoopin' now the hoes wanna guard us Okay, so play D - know what I mean? And I put you on the team Man this life is but a dream And I need a fast car, bad broads, fast forward Passports: I'm a fucking rap star