95 South

Album: The Off-Season (2021)
Charted: 8
Play Video
  • [Cam'ron (J. Cole):]
    Killa, it's The Off-Season
    Let's keep it tall, y'all ain't fuckin' with my man
    And don't check your watch, you know the time
    Cole World, Killa Cam', niggas is fuckin' finished (Yeah)

    [J. Cole:]
    This shit too easy for me now
    Nigga, Cole been goin' plat' since back when CDs was around
    What you sold, I tripled that, I can't believe these fuckin' clowns
    Look how everybody clappin' when your thirty-song album do a measly hundred thou'
    If I'm bettin' on myself, then I'll completely double down
    If you hated on a nigga, please don't greet me with a pound
    I be stayin' out the way, but if the beef do come around
    Could put a M right on your head, you Luigi brother now
    Trace my steps all in this game, you could see we cover ground
    Back and forth from NC to New York when Jeezy had the crown
    Vivid memories, niggas start to squeeze, we duckin' down
    So many shells left on the ground, it make the Easter Bunny proud
    I get up, dust my clothes off, sleep is the cousin of death
    No plans to doze off, the streets, it don't come with a ref
    I never sold soft, just creeped where the hustlers crept
    And got they O's off, you reach, niggas uppin' like Steph
    To blow your nose off, gesundheit, and then resume flight
    As if it never happened, shit we witnessed full of so much sickness
    Angels sheddin' tears in Heaven, word to Eric Clapton
    Off this clever rapping, bitch, my pockets gon' forever fatten

    They gon' forever fatten
    See, we tried to tell niggas
    They act like they don't even fuckin' speak English

    [J. Cole:]
    Bitch, my pen to the paper's lethal
    I'm sendin' 'em straight to meet the
    The nigga that made them peep the reaper
    Creepin' on ya, the scent of failure reekin' on ya
    Check your genitalia, pussy-niggas bleedin' on yourself
    Fuckin' with Cole is bold, but it's impedin' on your health
    All yo' niggas eatin' off your wealth
    All my niggas feedin' all they selves, and it feels swell
    Krispy Kreme dreams, sometime my dawgs wanna kill twelve (Uh)
    'Cause they steady harassin'
    We seen dilemmas like Nelly and Kelly that end in the deadliest fashion
    My young niggas nutty, they blastin'
    Bullets be hummin' like Cudi but one of yo' hoodies Spaghetti-O splashin'
    All over the driveway, y'all talkin' all sideways
    Shots poppin' off, y'all laid down
    Cops chalkin' off y'all legs now
    (Shit) God watchin', "Hey, Yahweh"
    My niggas looked up to the sky like we sendin' it y'all way (Y'all way)
    We sendin' it y'all way (Y'all way)

    That's what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout
    Y'all see what the fuck goin' on out here (Killa, Harlem)
    I-95 shit, Carolina, 2-6, stand up, nigga

    [Lil Jon:]
    Put your hood up
    Put your hood up
    Put your hood up
    Put your hood up
    Put your clique up
    Put your clique up
    Put your clique up
    Put your clique up
    Represent your shit, motherfucker
    Represent your shit, motherfucker
    Represent your clique, motherfucker
    Represent your clique, motherfucker
    If you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club
    If you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club


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