J. Cole — Atlantic City Freestyle

No album to my name and I’m already hot You could say I’m preheated If money talks, mine telling yours to be seated Cut my leg off, I wouldn’t be defeated Illest nigga in the game, bitch And you can retweet it E-mail the shit, make sure you Cc it For these fuck niggas who don’t want to believe it I be in the airport, damn near barefoot Security hollering out “Cole, we need it!” Getting high as fuck and I don’t even be weeded No point drinking, I can’t even be faded Real recognize real like they related You ain’t no fucking G, boy Your style G-rated Hatred is flattery, glad to be hated Fucking bad bitches that would rather be dated Carolina niggas just glad that he made it My money was running late, now it’s happy belated