[Verse 1:]
|
Yea Fayettenam
|
Uh, these niggas is playing Russian roulette with a full clip, foolish
|
My crew is foolless naw we don't dance all we do is stay two steps ahead
|
Make the hoes get loose like a noose neck-Instead while these dudes beg for head
|
They got the game twisted, heavy traffic in this rap shit
|
Look how my lane shifted, elevated my game, lifted my name
|
Now these lame niggas could never get it
|
Like that bad bitch you wanted but could never hit it
|
Clever with it, my flow like a devil spit it and heaven sent it
|
So high if I dropped I would fall for 11 minutes
|
So yea, I operate on a higher plain, my thoughts take a higher train
|
It's dope, then you should know the suppliers name
|
It's J. Cole, set of horns and a halo
|
And all these hoes ? wanna text-us like Waco
|
It's hard to remain faithful niggas be throwing hate
|
Yo I'm in a league of my own so what the fuck would I play for!?
|
Some next niggas almost slide in but didn't fit in
|
Naw I ain't Maury Povich but who the fuck is you kid-in?
|
These big weight niggas throwing their bid in
|
Try not to show stress
|
I guess the flow is protested like a sit in
|
I told my niggas we would get in
|
But that ain't even half the battle
|
Stay behind like a shadow
|
Or you catapult
|
Not if I had a ladder or not even if I had a rope
|
I'd climb that motherfucker to the top and never let it go!
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
(I'm out for presidents to represent me nigga!)
|
I out or president to represent me, yea!
|
I'm out for dead fuckin presidents to represent me! The warm up!
|
Yea, the warm up! yea the warm up
|
(This is, the warm up!)
|
|
[Verse 2:]
|
Ay, look heaven or hell you choose
|
Freedom or jail, you lose
|
I can't stop em as hot as the devils shoes
|
Overcame a low life status to blow like Gladys
|
Ahead of my time like I live my whole life backwards
|
I'm nothing like these hoe-like rappers
|
My whole life practice to be the one
|
What's it like to be Lebron
|
They calling you the saviour, so much pressure but you deal with it
|
The weight of the world on your shoulders but you still lift it
|
I'll with it for real, lil nigga from Ville that real niggas can feel
|
Nobody taught us how to cook still niggas a grill
|
No Foreman, try not to call them ladies Bs but them hoes swarmin
|
Now honey, Ay is it destiny or is it money your feelin
|
Heard rumors of a deal and now you thinkin a million
|
Pardon my paranoid mind but I'm starin in the mirror livin in fear that things a never be the same
|
No one left for me to blame but myself cause I asked for this
|
Headed for fame but in my brain, hey can I last in this?
|
Ay five years I'll probably laugh at this
|
Try not to let it wear me out like a bad bitch with fashion sense
|
I keep it fresh while these whack niggas rehash and shit
|
Jackin styles you know, ski mask and shit
|
I pass these niggas, they trynna do it how these other niggas did it
|
I'm trynna live it how no other niggas ever lived it!
|
|
[Repeat Chorus:]
|
|
I'm out for fucking presidents to represent me!
|
I'm out for fucking presidents to represent me!
|
I'm out for fucking presidents to represent me!
|
Dead fucking presidents to represent me!
|
The warm up!
|
Yea, yea yea yea yea yea! the warm up! yea yea yea yea the warm up hey!
|
Fayattenaaaam! nigga yea!, Carolina all day!
|
Yea!
|
|
-----------------
|
Dead Presidents II
|
| J. Cole |
