[Intro: Funkmaster Flex]
We out here moving, J. Cole is here
This has happened before
When the mics are set up like this
You know something's gonna happen

[Break: J. Cole]
Is it on me?
Is it on me?
Hmmmmm, hmmmmmm
Hmmmm, hmmmm
NYC, Cole World

[Verse 1: J.Cole]
Look, they say I'm something like a teacher
I guess they right, I'm with your bitch on her
How to play FIFA, kick game Messi
Switch lanes while I get brains, bet me
I don't whiff stain anything these pricks aim at me
I am hater proof, the straight up truth
Went and got my weight up God
Now I'm straight-up Zeus
Silly little rappers rhyming 'bout their made-up coupes
That you ain't ever gonna drive, jets you will never step inside
So just step aside, rather look up at the sky
Don't you see this middle finger from my big ol' G5, I
Chartered planes, ballin' blowin' money fast though it's all in vain
You only live once, so fuck the cops
Who'd rather see us all in ball-and-chains
My aim is to stretch my name in your Hall of Fame
Next to Elvis, paint a vivid picture of where hell is
And crawled out, heart froze and it never thawed out
So I balled out, with my balls out
Screamin' live for the moment, make sense don't it
My mama need a crib I'm gon' cop it and she'll own it
We gon' toast to the days when they foreclose our shit
Now we livin' better thanks to the flows I spit
And I'll make sure she paid like she wrote my shit
That's a Wayne line, no time to count this dough I get
All this gear I don't wear, I need four closets (damn)
Go figure, my pockets got bigger
Now all those I don't fuck with say "That's my n***a"
"That's my n***a"
[Interlude: Funkmaster Flex]
You see us, baby
Funk Flex, J. Cole
Who you mad at, me or yourself

[Verse 2: J.Cole]
Look
They give props to the others but them n***as ain't help
Take a look around, girl I built this shit up myself
At a time when n***as cry 'bout how they sit on the shelf
I gave the world 2 classics to put on my belt
Way before "Work Out" I did them sit-ups myself
Too many hands in my pockets, n***as hit at my wealth
I gotta, re-maneuver these deals, they need improving drastically
Cause homie if you asking me
I'm supposed to be the richest n***a since Master P
If not, at least half, my n***a at least half
Afraid of 30, still looking twenty, like he's Fab
Subtle shit, throwing these jabs like he's Zab
I seen, Mac Miller, that n***a got mad millers
The rap Brad Miller and even a tad iller
You see me, salute me, it's crazy the way they do me
You would feel me if you n***as knew me, let's make a movie
Out this shit, cause these hoes getting choosy out this bitch
Playing "Juicy" in jacuzzis, getting woozy I could sip
Champagne and hopefully forget the whole damn thing
We pullin' hoes like a ol' hamstring
Cole so damn mean, and high as fuck n***a no landing
Long as I'm alive, no man king
And n***a that was the hook
[Interlude: Funkmaster Flex]
HOT 97, baby!!!

[Verse 3: J.Cole]
Look
This music's my weapon so anyone that's interrupting
Get a Colin Kaepernick bullet straight to the chest
Tryna make an impression, so if I aim to the left
And you can't make the reception, ya man'll catch a great interception
I'm nice n***a, could've dropped the album like twice n***a
So n***a fuck your advice n***a
Started off friendly, now all these n***as my enemies
What could you say to offend me?

[Break: J. Cole]
I could go forever, Flex, I could go forever
Born Sinner, TOMORROW, June 18th
I could go on forever