J. Cole – H.Y.B. Lyrics

J. Cole H.Y.B. Lyrics, J. Cole ft Bas H.Y.B. Lyrics, J. Cole ft Central Cee H.Y.B. Lyrics

Listen, baby
I’ve got news
I’ve got bad news for you

And we ball like TNT, watch these hoes all pick a side
B****es flock like TMZ every time we come outside
Called a Uber SUV, how many gon’ fit inside? Yeah
Hide your b****, hide your wife, yeah
Bagged your b**** in my slide, yeah
Pray the dogs never die, yeah
Forty-two come alive, yeah
Hide your b****, hide your wife

I’m allergic to cap
I can’t hear these n*** rap without an EpiPen
You’ll never see me in Giuseppe, I find ’em tacky, look what I’m stepping in
Some shit I designed, but Italians callin’ ’em Indy 5000’s
Or maybe five hundred
I kick the door down, if I want it and n*** won’t let me in (Uh)
My career in a nutshell, these bums never did nothin’ but fail
They gon’ see I’m the one when the dust settles
They gon’ see I’m the one
A-B-C-D-E-F-G, H-I-J-K, uh, M-N-O-P
That’s little me in the classroom askin’, “What’s L?” (Uh)
I never been known to take those
Your girl saw me and her face froze
You better be lucky I’m faithful
Please test me, I ace those
My money been growin’ like eight fold, uh
But you know how I hate goals
I can’t tell if they turning green from the envy, or is it the fake gold? (Uh)
I move through the street one deep, I keep forgettin’ I’m J. Cole
I feel like a regular n**, I just got a very irregular bankroll
Word to Puma, I’ve been gettin’ Pesos
My account like the end of a rainbow
Every time that I spit it’s a flame throw
Me, Bas, and Cench, it’s NATO

And we ball like TNT, watch these hoes all pick a side

B****e flock like TMZ every time we come outside
Called a Uber SUV, how many gon’ fit inside? Yeah
Hide your b****, hide your wife, yeah (Skrrt)
Bagged your b**** in my slide, yeah
Pray the dogs never die, yeah
Forty-two come alive, yeah
Hide your b****, hide your wife

Lord forgive me as I’m a sinner
The way that I live, I’m preparing for hell
I don’t know why you’re mad, you should probably thank me
‘Cause I been airin’ your girl
If I get some top, we can take the chase, cah we know the area well
Thank God I’m not far off a hundred M’s, I gotta thank Ron Perry as well
I don’t even know why they stepped in the ring
A few seconds in and they’re throwin’ the towel in
When we pull into the town, neighbours sayin’, “How the hell they get them houses?”
Now I’m in some different locations, I don’t even know how to pronounce them
Award shows, I bring my pouch in, I ain’t even pullin’ out my—
I can’t get packed by TMZ, tryna fit four tings in the G63
I’ma give one ting to my bro YG, I’ma handle the rest and jeet all three
The back so big and we all gassed up, how the f**k did she fit in them Diesel jeans?
I can’t compete ’cause they ain’t in my league
Oh, please, it ain’t even a equal beef
At least hit man in the abdominal, bro, it don’t even count if below the knee
Block life, chillin’ with a horrible hoe, she gonna get down and blow the team
Me and the guys was borrowing clothes, like, “Bro, let me hold that coat this week”
Now it’s after hours, I’ve shutdown Harrods, I bring out the AmEx and go on a spree

And we ball like TNT, watch these hoes all pick a side
B****es flock like TMZ every time we come outside
Called a Uber SUV, how many gon’ fit inside? Yeah
Hide your b****, hide your wife, yeah
Bagged your b**** in my slide, yeah
Pray the dogs never die, yeah
Forty-two come alive, yeah
Hide your b****, hide your wife

    Lyrics Knowledge:
  • Written by: J. Cole, Bas, Central Cee
  • Album: Might Delete Later
  • Released: 2024