Problems J. Cole

[Verse 1]
Dear Mrs. Bill Collector
I know you just doing your job
Don’t mean to disrespect you
But we’ve been going through this thing since way back
I told you when I get the dough I would pay back
But I got problems baby yeah if you only knew
I got bigger problems baby, yeah, hey
So why you talking about the money that I owe
Like as if I didn’t know man
It don’t mean nothing to me
Cause right now I got my little boy crying
And my grandmother dying
Could you please stop fucking with me
Listen here, I ain't looking for no tears
But my brother got a year
And my Momma keep smoking that shit
On top of that, I’m broke
Please put that in your notes
For the next one to call me up talking that shit
And then ahana...

[Verse 2]
Hey
Dear, Mr. Policeman
Ay am I wrong, ain't you suppose to keep the peace man?
I coulda swore that I was driving pretty peaceful
So why the hell is you pulling over me fo'?
Is it this black Mercedes?
Oh naw I get it, I get it, I get it
Or cause I’m Black, hmmm maybe?
Yeah, hey, tell me why my hands start sweating
And I hold my breath every time that you get behind me
I turn my music down so you won’t hear a sound
Man I’m nervous like I got a couple pounds on me
You pulled me over, you frown on me
With your flashlight, tell me what do you see
Thug niggas, drug dealers, it's a trip
Every nigga in this whip gotta motherfucking college degree
And then ahana... unh