Video Bref Control » J Cole Lyrics | Musica Hip Hop

J Cole - Bref Control Lyrics

[Intro]
Yo, let me tell you 'bout a crew I know
The crash unit had to come and steal the show
Whenever nervous wrecks and therapists come
To take you back, you know the job ain't done
And I know, oh yes, I know, I know because I'm Therapist son
Yo, check this out
At the high house
Work, yo

[Verse 1]
I appeal to the criminal minds
You've been blinded, this shit is so timeless
You need to open your eyes, you cat-napping
My squad blasts tracks, see proof, back tracking (Therapist)
Now what you know about ill flows, you not go (Ah)
You'se a suck off, bitch I'm a hard stroke
Etching my name in the payments so mistake forever
I'm paying dues, make more moves than the game of checkers (Checkers)
So get your back sticks
And when you come here, act like you have sense
Don't talk out your ass bitch
My raps is classic and crafted, I know the ropes
Sucker MC's never make it up the totem pole
Who knows and goes
Crash, you niggas starving now
Any faggot talking out his ass, better crumble down
'Cause I'm all about drama, my crowd too big to swallow
So trust me, when my mood swings, my pistol follow
What? After all weight turns out
Tools get burned out, your rhymes is run out
I immediately come out raw, ready to blast out (Birds)
Don't boast my roast, my very last nerve
I give the last word and the last how, ha
Tryna laugh past you, rap asses
Now sit back, relax and jack your safety buckles
The caskets tryna make me stumble, they just make me chuckle
I hate to break your bubble but I'm the freshest
Don't even try to test this
You only touch kids that's child molesters, I'm a lesson
Cat's like you, dime a dozen, you just play hard
Panic rapping, just don't quit your day job
My rap control is insane when I say rhymes
These goon walls can't hold a flame to mine
And as an MC on this dope record
Time that we break for a second
[Interlude]
(Man speaks)

[Verse 2]
Yo, break is over, we taking over
Let's ride through your home spot, I be the controller
You can't grab hold of
Your catch is field mice, I'll be King Cobra
The ride of rude rebels, at level fifteen
The ends boosted up to ten, you know what I mean
It seems you got some bitch within you
My peoples stare down the whole damn venue
Not a part, not a fractional so what
Crackled ceilings and crumbled walls
Long terrain, immune to the pain
We save enough, y'all putting money down in vain
You ain't no big dawg, no pay day
You pay, them hoes pop, you get your wig peeled
You ain't no big dawg, you not no big dick
You paid, them hoes po, you get your wig picked
You pray my logo, I heard you pitch well
You tryna bug out, I sit still
Yo, I feel like you should both come to terms
Even though I can't smah up your concerns
Hypothetically or in reality
Taking you out, is a small technicality
Rhymes like these or rhymes like this up
While I diss 'em, soft, silly, low budget sucker like yourself
I got the style, you couldn't eat at my household
I labeled it sucker boy style
I like to do it once in a while
[Outro]
(Static speaking)