J. Cole

"Middle Child (DREAMmix)"

[Verse]
n*ggas they counted me out
They should’ve know I’m never down for the count
Watch how I come back like I’m Mr. Chow
Smell like a cloud, my backwood is stout
Ya’ll worried bout clout, you pout when you put
You all in bag, it’s more like a pouch
Running up numbers, you running your mouth
You running the town but can’t run a mile
Like Vee Marie I’m calling you out
Half of ya’ll trash, Oscar the grouch
The pen is my friend, the pen is my pal
When it comes to favorites, I know it’s a drought
Give credit when due, like with my PayPal
Some of you lil n*ggas I’m helping out
I need my commish like Roger Goddell
Trixs is for kids ask General Mills
Feel overwhelmed over & out
Only the weed can help me calm down
Help get over this hump, over this mound
This for the fences, like I can joust
Flow so cold, I should cover my mouth
sh*tting on ya’ll, should check out my bowels
State of Emergency, go in the house
Someone Call EMS, I’m blacking out
DREAM

[Refrain]
n*ggas been countin' me out
I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips
I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list
I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit
The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit
The game is off balance, I'm back on my sh*t
The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty
But that's how I like it, you all on my di*k

[Chorus]
I just poured somethin' in my cup
I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel
Promise I am never lettin' up
Money in your palm don't make you real
Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck
I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel
If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a f*ck
Pistol in your hand don't make you real

[Outro]
Money in your palm don't make you real
Pistol in your hand don't make you real
Money in your palm don't make you dream

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