J. Cole - Who Datt Pt. 2 lyrics

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J. Cole - Who Datt Pt. 2 lyrics

[Intro] Who dat who dat? [Verse 1 - SD] Back up on my 1, 2, 3 metaphors I'm rhyming with CD, you would think I'm in stores And y'all know me, I'm D-O-P-E Screaming skins all day, no MTV I see a girl giving out blows like a prize fighter I'm on top of the words: call me a highlighter Oral s** in the morning: that's a head start Words like bullets, yeah I'm shopping at a Lead Mart State of the Tar Heel, f** how y'all feel Young but I'm good, I got that f**in John Wall feel While y'all pissed off, I sit and sip Cristal Hornet's nest flow, I a**ist like Chris Paul Flow like a quick river, lines like a stick figure So many drinks, I'll probably borrow someone else's liver And I'm warming up just like a fireplace I know I'm an acquired taste, go ahead and try to hate But I'm just a brainiac who don't know where his brain be at I'm smoking Huckleberry so I guess I'm Mark Twaining that They told me I was insane, in fact I'm tryna get my train on track So you should probably counteract The fact that you attacked the Datt [Verse 2 - J. Cole] Who dat who dat? You know what you been waiting for I mean, the game was all bad just a week ago Rappers was bullsh** - listen, I ain't hating, no Now a brother, hot enough to f** with one of satan's hoes And she can't tell the difference, I been through hell conditions Wishing for air conditioning Feeling god would never listen Now I'm on television, and did I fail to mention Your b**h is tired of missionary, boy you failed the mission Man, just look at how I elevated Real n***as celebrate it, finger f** whoever hate it My life accelerated, but had to wait my turn Then I redecorated That means my tables turned Live life, might as well, only way to learn Just try and fail, clientele the only way to earn So if you're selling crack or if you're selling rap Make sure it's mean so the fiends keep on yelling back [Hook] [Verse 3 - Childish Gambino] I won't steal your girl? Test me I stay Childish, watch me breast-feed Grandfather ran numbers a criminal in Harlem The only thing he used to make was trouble and my father Father had me, said "Stay away from c**aine!" Blood stained gangster, my swag screams dope game I talk real n***a, this is what you ask for I sh** green like vegetarian a**holes Louder than Wayne's pants at the VMA's Stick to what you good at n***a! Oh, everything?! n***as want me everywhere, I'm yelling out "Sorry!" There's only one of me like white girls with black Barbies n***as mad that I ain't do sh** too I got a fly Asian b**h, that's a Shih Tzu Throwing out your jazz man, but you don't look like Uncle Phil f**ing girls from TV shows, my DVR is on the pill Shake it on Youtube, yeah that's a VEVO ho Black guy with a white voice, Cleveland Show I don't know, all I wanted was different things Hope these hood n***as don't blow me off when they're listening All I do is wear what white guys wore in the '50's And for some reason these white people think that it's interesting Too many girls, that's still not enough for me I love p**y like that old lady up the street Everything I spit is compilated and best of Black nerds run sh**, go and ask Questlove I'mma hit it twice, retail I got a package like a gansta, G-mail Google and a penis reference, same sentence, goody goody! I love my dick so much they let a n***a host the Woodies Got a whole barbershop like, "Oh man, this sh** is tight!" Solid sh**.. one wipe..

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