LYRIC
G.O.M.D. Lyrics by J. Cole, from the album “2014 Forest Hills Drive“, music has been produced by J. Cole, and G.O.M.D. song lyrics are penned down by J. Cole.
G.O.M.D. Lyrics
Hollywood Cole, go
Ayy, Hollywood, ayy, Hollywood Cole, go
My ni**a done went Hollywood
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 ni**as, 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
Ni**as 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 ni**a, aware that the ni**a is better (Better)
All my bitches the pick of the litter (Yeah,) never bitter
Ni**as is fake, they anime
Me, I never hate, get cake like Anna Mae, woah
Eat the cake bitch, eat the damn cake (Cake), uh
f*ck good, ni**a, we demand great (Great)
Order Domino then she take off all her cloth’
Ni**a 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 ni**a want beef
Secret service couldn’t keep the man safe
I said, to the window, to the wall (To the wall)
My ni**a ride when I call (I call)
Got bitches all on my mind (My mind)
f*ck ni**a 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
Get off my dick
Woah (Get the f*ck off my dick)
Get off my dick
Woah (Get the f*ck off my dick, ni**a)
Get off my dick (Bitch)
Woah (Get the f*ck off my dick)
Get off my dick
Woah
Man, f*ck them ni**as, 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
This is the part that the thugs skip!
Young ni**a never had love, you know
Foot massage, back rub shit
Blowin’ bubbles in the bathtub shit
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
Ni**as don’t sing about it no more
Don’t nobody sing about it no more
(No more), no more
It’s called love
Ni**as don’t sing about it no more
Don’t nobody sing about it no more
(Ni**a, don’t sing about this shit, ni**a)
But e’ry ni**a in the club singin’
To the window, to the wall (To the wall)
My ni**a ride when I call (I call)
Got bitches all on my mind (My mind)
f*ck ni**a 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
Get off my dick
But e’ry ni**a in the club singin’
Singin’ this song, yeah
Got all the bitches 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
The make up
This shit is retarded
Goddamn
Why every rich Black ni**a gotta be famous?
Why every broke Black ni**a 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 ni**a, I’m very sure
Heh
f*ck the rest, I’m the best ni**a 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 ni**as out
Ooh, I’ma stretch ni**as out
That go for all y’all if I left ni**as out
This shit for e’rybody on my testicle
Please make sure you put the rest in your mouth, ho
SONG INFO:
Song: G.O.M.D.
Artist: J. Cole
Album: 2014 Forest Hills Drive (2014)
Music: J. Cole
Lyrics: J. Cole
