"Villematic" lyrics

"Villematic"

To the college kids, no scholarships, starting your semester
Unpacking your suitcases filling up your dresser
Enjoy it while you got it, after that, it's God bless ya
Life is your professor, know that bitch is gon' test ya
I got some shit I'd like to get off my chest
I spill out my soul, I spit out my stress
And can I spit out my stress?
It's the feeling in the air
You bout to drop a real classic
He said, "Cole, a little birdy told me on the low you got a Illmatic"
Nobody touching Nas, nigga it's more like Villematic
Uh, these Fayettenam tales be paying off well
What story is my audio theater gon' tell
I know my debut will ship, but is it gon' sell?
I guess it's in God's hands
I make the type of pieces that make Jesus say, "God damn"
That's for your non-believers, I'm the truth, only time'll teach ya
And fuck the haters, probably never love their mamas neither
Old bitter-ass sit around in middle class homes
With computers on hatin' on the newest song
While you was browsin', I was takin' out them student loans
Tryna do this shit better than the niggas we grew up on
Name a fuckin' song I ain't threw up on
Talk is cheap, it's like y'all grew up in a Jewish home
Hah, pardon the stereotype
But y'all giving me mixed feelings like I married a white woman
One minute I'm overrated, next minute I'm the savior
You hate it before you played it, I already forgave ya
For bullshitting, and that nigga Cole spitting that real
Wrote this line on a plane got flown straight from the Ville
To Miami, where the same time last year
I was broker than you, I just wanna make that clear
'Cause now I'm dealing with money I've never seen before
And R&B bitches want me, that was just dreams before
Now do I give into the temptation I'm facing?
The thought of losing a good woman keep me from chasing
But I'm just a man, at time's the timing is wrong
Plus my dick is like a man with a mind of it's own
But I'm tryna be strong, remind myself she ain't about shit
These hoes the same, all that change is the outfit
Looking for cheese on some mouse shit
Suck a nigga, fuck a nigga, then go run their mouth quick
Rappers took a vacation I came over to house sit
You want change, this that between the seats in your couch shit
The fuck you thought, I lost it?
All that flame on my name would get exhausted
Au contraire, my nigga, they're all ears
Sit back, enjoy the ride it's finna be a long year, yeah
It's finna be a long year, yeah

I know you feel that
The tingle in your spine, don't conceal that
Don't conceal that
This exactly what you thought, somebody bought the real back
Hey


Writer(s): J. Cole
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