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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-x 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-ck how y’all feel
young but i’m good, i got that f-ckin john wall feel
while y’all p-ssed off, i sit and sip cristal
h-rnet’s nest flow, i -ssist 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-t – listen, i ain’t hating, no
now a brother, hot enough to f-ck with one of satan’s hoes
and she can’t tell the difference, i been through h-ll conditions
wishing for air conditioning
feeling god would never listen
now i’m on television, and did i fail to mention
your b-tch is tired of missionary, boy you failed the mission
man, just look at how i elevated
real n-ggas celebrate it, finger f-ck 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 cocaine!”
blood stained gangster, my swag screams dope game
i talk real n-gga, this is what you ask for
i sh-t green like vegetarian -ssh0l-s
louder than wayne’s pants at the vma’s
stick to what you good at n-gga! oh, everything?!
n-ggas want me everywhere, i’m yelling out “sorry!”
there’s only one of me like white girls with black barbies
n-ggas mad that i ain’t do sh-t too
i got a fly asian b-tch, that’s a shih tzu
throwing out your jazz man, but you don’t look like uncle phil
f-cking 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-ggas 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-ssy like that old lady up the street
everything i spit is compilated and best of
black nerds run sh-t, go and ask questlove
i’mma hit it twice, retail
i got a package like a gansta, g-mail
google and a p-n-s reference, same sentence, goody goody!
i love my d-ck so much they let a n-gga host the woodies
got a whole barbershop like, “oh man, this sh-t is tight!”
solid sh-t.. one wipe..

- j cole lyrics

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