J. Cole - 7 Minute Drill Lyrics

 

J. Cole - 7 Minute Drill Lyrics

[Intro: J. Cole]

Yeah! Turn it up

Yeah, turn the vocal up, Uh

[Chorus: J. Cole]

Light work like it's PWC

It's a cold world, keep the heat under your seat

I got a phone call, they say that somebody dissing

You want some attention, it come with extensions

My dog like, "Say the word, " he on bullsh!t, he itching

Done put in so much work in these streets, he got pension

I told him chill out, how I look having henchman?

If shots get to popping, I'm the one doing the clenching

[Verse 1: J. Cole]

I came up in the 'Ville, so I'm good when it's tension

He still doing shows, but fell off like the Simpsons

Your first sh!t was classic, your last sh!t was tragic

Your second sh!t put n!ggas to sleep, but they gassed it

Your third sh!t was massive and that was your prime

I was trailing right behind and I just now hit mine

Now I'm front of the line with a comfortable lead

How ironic, soon as I got it, now he want something with me

Well, he caught me at the perfect time, jump up and see

Boy, I got here off of bars, not no controversy

Funny thing about it, b!tch, I don't even want the prestige

F**k the Grammys 'cause them crackers ain't never done nothing for me, ho

Slugs took my n!gga's soul, drugs took another one

The rap beef ain't realer than the sh!t I seen in Cumberland

He averaging one hard verse like every thirty months or something

If he wasn't dissing, then we wouldn't be discussing him

Lord, don't make me have to smoke this n!gga 'cause I f**k with him

But push come to shove, on this mic, I will humble him

I'm Nino with this thing, this that New Jack City meme

Yeah, I'm aiming at G-Money, crying tears before I bust at him

[Chorus: J. Cole]

Light work like it's PWC

It's a cold world, keep the heat under your seat

I got a phone call, they say that somebody dissing

You want some attention, it come with extensions

My dog like, "Say the word, " he on bullsh!t, he itching

Done put in so much work in these streets, he got pension

I told him chill out, how I look having henchman?

If shots get to popping, I'm the one doing the— (Conductor, conductor, conductor)

[Verse 2: J. Cole]

I got mixed feelings 'bout these f**king rap n!ggas

It's over for that cap, we official cap peelers

Two-six, we don't at n!ggas, we get at n!ggas

Shoot a n!gga lights out, yeah, my dogs stat fillers

Stat stuffers, triple-double, get your as* black duffled

Body bag, body bag, body bag

Cole World your instructor for pilates class

Get a n!gga stretched if I feel the disrespect, uh

Your arms might be too short to box with the god

Who live his life without the pressures of a constant facade

I pray for peace, but if a n!gga cease these positive vibes

A Falcon 9 inside my pocket, b!tch, this rocket gone fly

Now it's popping outside like the top of July

My text flooded with the hunger for a toxic reply

I'm hesitant, I love my brother, but I'm not gonna lie

I'm powered up for real, that sh!t would feel like swatting a fly

Four albums in twelve years, n!gga, I can divide

Sh!t, if this is what you want, I'm indulging in violence

Put pictures in my home, aim the chrome at your eyelids

Fly pebbles at your dome, we the Stone Temple Pilots

This is merely a warning shot to back n!ggas down

Back in the town where they whipping work and trafficking pounds

My jack jumping 'bout a rapper making blasphemous sounds

Switching sides like the tassel on the cap and the gown

I'm fully loaded, n!gga, I can drop two classics right now

[Outro: J. Cole]

Hah, let me chill out, man (Conductor)

The Fall Off on the way, n!gga