[Intro: Wale & J. Cole]
Count me in, Cole
Right here? (Nah, not yet)
Yeah, bounce, bounce
My boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy
Yeah, right here?
Ay, look, uh! Yo, okay

[Verse 1: Wale]
Concrete since day one, ain't no time to make up
Ain’t no top on that hoe, like baby with the A-cup
Thank you for your services, invoicin' all my haters
Be sure to leave your armor and your woman penetrated
I give her back, I hate her! Poof! Get outta here
I say congratulations, your old lady renovated
You n***as lazy, my boy! Why you hatin', my guy?
You bought her Commes des Garçons
She come and play with your heart
I’m far from a popular artist, one of the hardest, no lesser
And I saw your woman, I caught her low like a Cardigan sweater
Call her whatever you want, I got my revenue up
In Beverly Hills, my ceiling's like the Beverly brothers
Since day one, Folarin been the same one
I came up in them go-go's, most of them was afraid of
Now "Kill Moe" — say that! Now "Kill Moe" — say that!
But when your wheel is a fortune, you ne'er gotta say jack
Don't be talkin' too much, these n***as copy too much
These n***as cardio crazy, chasin' clout must be tough
Fuck it! I wrote me a dozen, n***as got me fucked up
I raise my hands, and raise your family's casualties up!
I’m faded.. I’m playin'
These n***as don’t be no gangsters, they be payin' n***as, yeah
Extortion ain't dead, it just moved to the county
Shoot 'em out the S-class, I guess truancy the problem
I know every who-and-who, and every hoodlum I’m around 'em
And what you call a piece of mind, I call a picture for a bounty
Hold up! Yo, I'm in my luggage, in my luggage
Hold up! Boy, I'm on the runway like I'm Duckie
Hold up! Prolific, really be livin' my lyrics
So tell me who did it this big, and who ain't 'bout to slow up?
[Chorus: Wale & J. Cole]
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

[Bridge: J. Cole]
Who gon' bring my crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, and she can't get enough of me
I don't play around, who got that type of luxury?
Bitch, it's goin' down, and ain't no catchin' up to me

[Verse 2: J. Cole]
Yeah! Stepped in the building with my vibe on a million
Slide on the beat like, "My God, I'm so brilliant"
All other rappers — put your pride to the side
Try collide with the squad, turn your mob into corn on the cob
You's a fraud, you's a thorn in my side
I'm a knife in yo' back, I'm that turn of the knob
On the door when the boys from the corner come rob you
And tie you up to somethin', now stop with all that frontin'!
That big money talk should be reserved for those that got it
But when you really got it, you ain't pressed to talk about it
That's why I hear that cap in all your raps and highly doubt it
The game too crowded
I'm 'bout to get all the way the fuck up out it
No 'ifs', 'ands' or 'buts' about it
30 mill on a deal dependin' on how the tour was routed
I seen your watch when you first dropped, that shit was clouded!
Which means you used to fugazi shit
Fake-it-'til-you-make-it type, I shoot through you crazy with
Hollow tips, no holla back, just hotter raps
I gotta black to make sure every dirty dollar stacked
Y'all aimin' for the stars, bitch, I'm aimin' at yo' Starter cap!
Run, n***a, run like a fuckin' black quarterback (Uh)
Stereotypical, but to hear me is pivotal
I will bury you n***as and come and air out your funeral
Have your homies on stretchers, right next to Roman numerals
IV's, IV's — it's the reason why nobody try me, try me
Have a n***a screamin', "Lord, why me? Why me?
Cole did me grimy
He took it too far, he treat them bullets like they Siamese"
Back-to-back, I clap like that's a wrap
But... no video shoots, just hoodies and boots
Puttin' yo' troops in pine boxes
I blew a million on white tees and Calvin Klein boxers!
This n***a silly
[Chorus: J. Cole]
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, say what!

[Bridge: Wale & J. Cole]
Who gon' bring the crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me?
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
Faded off the brown, she can't get enough of me
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
I don't play around, who got that type of luxury?
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
Bitch, it's goin' down, it ain't no catchin' up to me
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

[Outro x3: J. Cole]
Who gon' bring my crown? And who gon' try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, she can't get enough of me
I don't play around, who got that type of luxury?
Bitch, it's goin' down, it ain't no catchin' up to me