Rich Niggaz

J. Cole

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    Ey yo
    Ey yo
    Ey yo uh

    Yeah

    I hate rich niggas goddammit
    Cause I ain't never had a lot dammit
    Who you had to kill, who you had to rob
    Who you had to fuck just to make it to the top dammit
    Or maybe that's daddy money, escalator no ladder money
    Escalading new caddy money
    Worst fear going broke cause I'm bad with money
    Crookest smile nigga momma never had the money damn
    I ain't trippin'
    A nigga Jordan I ain't Pippen yeah
    Up the steps I ain't slippin'
    Tears blood sweat I ain't crippin, Pierce
    A song you can sing along with when you down
    On some let you know you ain't alone shit
    When your momma ain't at home cause she got a second job
    Delivering pizzas you think she out there getting robbed
    Please God watch her I know how niggas do
    Half cracker but a nigga too
    Talking all that shit 'bout your step-pops
    How he was a dog now look at you
    I ain't bad as that nigga plus dawg I'm a grown man now
    I ain't mad at that nigga
    But if a plane crash and only it killed his lame ass
    I'd be glad its that nigga, nigga
    Did Kay dirty now it's back to broke
    Refund check she used that to float
    Momma gets depressed falls in love with the next maniac
    On crack use that to cope
    Make a nigga smoke a whole sack of dope
    Writing rhymes tryna bring back the hope
    Try to ride the storm out and crashed the boat
    Could've drowned, but I grabbed the rope

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    And there go you
    And there go you
    And there go you
    Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew
    And there go you
    And there go you
    And there go you
    Sing
    You got what I want
    I got what you need
    How much for your soul and uh
    How much for your soul and uh
    You got what I want
    I got what you need
    How much for your soul and uh
    How much for your soul and uh

    I hate rich niggas goddammit
    Cause I ain't never had a lot dammit
    Niggas can't front on the flows you got
    But every fucking verse how much dough you got
    Homie, don't quit now hear my shit and tried to switch now
    Know you felt the shit just now, know you felt the shit just now
    Ain't it more to you? Don't it ever get boring to you?
    I realize deep down you a coward getting high off of power
    Fuck it more to you, saw through you
    And it made me ashamed that I played the game
    Not for more money like Damon Wayans
    Wanted the respect but it came with fame
    I just wanted love but it just ain't the same
    I took a train down memory lane
    And watching little Jermaine do his thang before he made a name
    It's like Sony signed Basquiat
    He gave it all he got now the nigga don't paint the same thang
    I guess he can't complain
    All the money that be raining in
    Spend a hundred thou for the chain again
    Thinking old school niggas like Dana and Dane
    Probably kill for another claim to fame, my brain the same
    Yeah, nigga, at least he ain't insane
    At least he ain't insane
    You ain't crazy, motherfucker, you're just afraid of change
    That's new, maybe that's true
    But listen here I got a bigger fear
    Of one day that I become you
    And I become lost and I become heartless
    And numb from all the Ménages
    Just one bitch don't feel the same no more
    And Henny don't really kill the pain no more
    Now I'm Cobain with a shotgun aimed at my brain
    Cause I can't maintain no more
    Tad bit extreme I know
    Money can't save your soul
    But there go you

    And there go you
    And there go you
    Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew
    And there go you
    And there go you
    And there go you
    Selling me dreams and telling me things you knew
    Sing
    You got what I want
    I got what you need
    How much for your soul and uh
    How much for your soul and uh
    You got what I want
    I got what you need
    How much for your soul and uh
    How much for your soul and uh

    Song details

    Composition: Giffts Michael, Telepopmusik, Fabrice Dumont, Ronald Eugene Gilmore, J Cole, Deborah A Anderson, and Cedric Brown

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