Ready ’24 J. Cole (Ft. Cam'ron)

[Intro: Cam'ron & J. Cole]
Yes (Yo, Killa, Killa)
Flee Farms, boy
(Yeah, we leavin', uh, Tuesday, we gon' fly to London)
Fuck with me, Harlem (Yeah)
I promise niggas
I guarantee it, I put my stamp of fuckin' authenticity, nigga
Ain't no nigga better than me in this fuckin' planet, I swear to God

[Verse 1: J. Cole]
Bitch, I'm on my shit again
I don't be sittin' 'round thinkin' what I could've been
I'ma do it now, I told mama I'ma do her proud
I do what I want, you niggas do what you allowed
My dog blew the loud into a cloud
These verses heinous, so of course they trainers threw in towels
Cole World, I got too much style
Designer or not, I just pulled your bitch with no line-up and Crocs
Where I'm from, fiends line up for rocks
Young niggas line up for Glocks
Talk slick, one shot, aw shit, forensics outlinin' your socks
Poor decision, mortician alpinin' your box
Raw pitchin', court vision, dishin' pounds on the block
You think you 'bout to get this shit over-the-counter? You're not
Ain't no prescription for this shit, you can't just dial up the doc'
My nigga wicked with the wrist, he whipped it out of a pot
From a powder to rock solid, then count up the profits
You ain't gotta sell that shit no more, I got it on lock, I told you