Lletres: J. Cole. Bun B For President.

Uh-uh
Ha! Yeah
Nigga, aye
Yeah, uh

Below that mason dixon my residence, dirty South Confederate
Aye, we should hold elections, I say Bun B for president
He represent them real niggas
TX to ATL, to NC, yeah them Ville niggas
Them Trill niggas

Chill nigga it's that rider shit
My bottom bitch say "I'm not a bitch, boy I got a bitch"
I keep her ass in Prada shit, these rappers counterfeit
I probably train niggas, yeah this that teach you how to shit
I'm bout this shit, my minds a glock, my mouths the clip
My words is bullets, I'm bout to spit
I leave you leakin', you lay in peace as if the streets a couch and shit
You see me on my bouncing shit, watch out I put you out this shit
Man I'm making so much money, gotta pay somebody to count this shit
Probably gonna make my accountant sick
Boy I'm higher than the mountains get
These new niggas ain't talkin bout nothing
Cause it's obvious they ain't been around this shit
So they bound to split where they go down, profound with these pronouns
Ladys loving J. Cole now so you better not bring your hoe round

You know the residence, dirty south confederate
Ate we should hold elections, I say Bun B for president!
He represent them real niggas
TX to ATL, to NC, yeah them Ville niggas
Them Trill niggas
Hey!