a m a r i Lyrics – J. Cole
Singer: J. Cole
Title: a m a r i
Bada-ba, bada-ba
Off-Season
Let’s work, hey
Plottin’ my escape, this game writin’ a n#gg#s faith
Got a couple M’s hidin’ in the safe
Imagination turned a Honda into Wraith
I was doin’ eighty on the interstate
Tryna make it back before my class started
Country n#gg# never seen a passport
‘Til I popped off and got a bag for it
Now I’m at the Gardens sittin’ half court
Watchin’ Jr. catch it off the backboard
‘Ville n#gg# never seen nothin’
Except a ****ing triple bean jumpin’
Good dope leave a fiend crumpin’
Made it out, it gotta mean somethin’
Either you gon’ hustle hard
A n#gg# Uncle Sam got your #ss re-enlisting
Two-six, murder scene pumpin’
Better leave it tuck, ’cause he ain’t dumbin’
Pow, pow, n#gg#, he slumpy
12 comin’, we ain’t seen nothin’
Time change, n#gg#s ain’t rumblin’ no more
Nah, what for? Hungry for more
If you solo these vocals
If you listen closely you can hear crumblin’
Mo-tie and I’m still munchin’
Big bag, never fear fumblin’
Want smoke? n#gg# don’t choke
I’m a whole ****in’ nicotine company
Dreamville the Army, not a Navy
How could you ever try to play me?
Kill ’em on a song walk up out the booth
Do the Westbrook rock-a-baby
I never fall out with the bro
Hate when your family turn into foe
We had a penthouse on the road
Interior decorated with the hoes
Just like a multiple-choice getting chose
My n#gg#s like “Eenie, meenie, minee, moe”
Scoop up a dime-piece like we homeless
Then we gon’ send ’em back, b#tch, we told you
Out of the concrete was a rose and windows was cold
Had to go over and stand by the stove
We from the Southeast, n#gg#s know
This where the opps creep real slow
And **** what they mob deep with the poles
I punch the time sheet no more
And now my assigned seat is a throne
Plottin’ my escape, this game writin’ a n#gg#s faith
Got a couple M’s hidin’ in the safe
Imagination turned a Honda into Wraith
I was doin’ eighty on the interstate
Tryna make it back before my class started
Country n#gg# never seen a passport
‘Til I popped off and got a bag for it
Now I’m at the Gardens sittin’ half court
Watchin’ Jr. catch it off the backboard
‘Ville n#gg# never seen nothin’
Except a ****ing triple bean jumpin’
Good dope leave a fiend crumpin’
Made it out, it gotta mean somethin
Made it out, it gotta mean somethin
Made it out, it gotta mean somethin
Bada-ba, bada-ba, bada-ba
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