G.O.M.D. lyrics

[Intro]
Hollywood Cole, go
Ayy, Hollywood, ayy, Hollywood Cole, go
My n*gga done went Hollywood

[Verse 1]
You wanna know just where I'm at?
Well, let me tell you 'bout it
I put my city on the map
But let me tell you 'bout it
They tryna say I can't come back
Ayy, let me tell you 'bout it
Man, f*ck them n*ggas, I come back
Ayy, let me tell you 'bout it
I wanna tell you 'bout it:
Heads up, e'rybody run
Cole outside and he say he got a gun
n*ggas like, "Man, that's what e'rybody said" (Uh-huh)
Go and pop the trunk and now e'rybody dead
E'rybody scared of the n*gga, aware that the n*gga is better (Better)
All my b*tches the pick of the litter (Yeah,) never bitter
n*ggas is fake, they anime
Me, I never hate, get cake like Anna Mae, woah
Eat the cake b*tch, eat the damn cake (Cake), uh
f*ck good, n*gga, we demand great (Great)
Order Domino then she take off all her cloth'
n*gga you know how it go, make the pizza man wait (Hol' up! Hol' up! Hol' up!)
The best-kept secret
Even Hov tried to keep it then I leaked the damn tape, uh
Rest in peace any n*gga want beef
Secret service couldn't keep the man safe
[Refrain]
I said, to the window, to the wall (To the wall)
My n*gga ride when I call (I call)
Got b*tches all on my mind (My mind)
f*ck n*gga blockin' my shine (My shine)
I know the reason you feel a lil way
I know just who you wan' be
So every day I thank the Man upstairs
That I ain't you and you ain't me

[Chorus]
Get off my di*k
Woah (Get the f*ck off my di*k)
Get off my di*k
Woah (Get the f*ck off my di*k, n*gga)
Get off my di*k (b*tch)
Woah (Get the f*ck off my di*k)
Get off my di*k
Woah

[Bridge]
Man, f*ck them n*ggas, I come home
And I don't tell nobody
They gettin' temporary dough
And I don't tell nobody
Lord, will you tell me if I changed?
I won't tell nobody
I wanna go back to Jermaine
And I won't tell nobody
[Interlude]
This is the part that the thugs skip!

[Verse 2]
Young n*gga never had love, you know
Foot massage, back rub sh*t
Blowin' bubbles in the bathtub sh*t
That is until I met you
Together we done watched years go by
Seen a river of your tears go by
Got me thinkin' 'bout some kids, still I
Tell them hoes come through, the break-up
Get to know somebody and you really learn
A lot about 'em, won’t be long 'fore you start to doubt 'em
Tell yourself you're better off without 'em
Then in time, you will find can't walk without 'em
Can't talk without 'em, can't breathe without 'em
Came here together, you can't leave without 'em
So you walk back in, make a scene about 'em
On your Amerie, it's just 1 Thing about 'em, it's called love
n*ggas don't sing about it no more
Don't nobody sing about it no more
(No more), no more
It's called love
n*ggas don't sing about it no more
Don't nobody sing about it no more
(n*gga, don't sing about this sh*t, n*gga)
But e'ry n*gga in the club singin'
[Refrain]
To the window, to the wall (To the wall)
My n*gga ride when I call (I call)
Got b*tches all on my mind (My mind)
f*ck n*gga blockin' my shine (My shine)
I know the reason you feel a lil way
I know just who you wan' be
So every day I thank the Man upstairs
That I ain't you and you ain't me

[Bridge]
Get off my di*k
But e'ry n*gga in the club singin'
Singin' this song, yeah
Got all the b*tches in the club singin'
Singin' this song, yeah
And all the mamas let their kids sing it
Sing this song, yeah
The baby mamas and the mistresses
This song, yeah, song, yeah
Song, yeah, song-song, yeah

[Verse 3]
The make up
This sh*t is retarded
Goddamn
Why every rich Black n*gga gotta be famous?
Why every broke Black n*gga gotta be brainless?
Uh, that's a stereotype
Driven by some people up in Aerial Heights, here's a scenario:
Young Cole pockets is fat like Lil Terrio
Dreamville, give us a year, we'll be on every show
Yeah, f*ck n*gga, I'm very sure
Heh
f*ck the rest, I'm the best n*gga out
When I'm back home, I'm the best in the South
When I'm in L.A., I'm the best in the West
You contest? You can test, I'ma stretch n*ggas out
Ooh, I'ma stretch n*ggas out
That go for all y'all if I left n*ggas out
This sh*t for e'rybody on my testicle
Please make sure you put the rest in your mouth, ho

[Produced by J. Cole]
[Directed by Lawrence Lamont]