J. Cole - BRACKETS lyrics

Lotta shit happens, like
Being in show business
A lot of shit happens, like, like
I make a lot of money, you know
And I'm really happy about it
And I'm not bragging
I just wanna say something
I make a so fuck, it's ridiculous
But wait, wait a minute, wait a minute
Hey, if my father was alive today
I would go home and say
"Dad, I wanna tell you how much money I made"
You know what he'd say?
"You's a lying motherfucker
Joe Louis didn't make that much money
Come in here, get your ass out the house
Coming here with that bullshit, " hah

Niggas hating on me, I ain't used to that
Know a couple people wanna shoot for that
I say "No, no, no, chill


It ain't no need for that"
Them niggas tryna blow and ain't
Need me for that
And if it work for them, well shit
I'm cool with that 'Cause how they feel
I ain't got shit to do with that
I just sit back on cool
And watch my paper stack
And trip off how much bread
Them crackers take from that

It's been a long time since
I have felt this way
About something but now, but now
I'm controlling my mind, the days are warm
The nights are cold, the lost is found
I'm found
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to fill this void
Lord knows I need something to fill this void

Hell yeah boy, I'm a goddamn millionaire now
Hell yeah, nigga, they can't tell me
Shit now, bro, hell no, fuck that
Bitch, got my first motherfuckin'
Million dollar check nigga
I'm goddamn lit boy, you crazy as hell
Hold up, it's my phone real quick
It's my Unc' uncle Sam and shit
"What's up Unc'? Yup hey I told
You that check was coming in
I gotchu when it came
In goddamn, I'm a man of my word goddamn
I told you I'ma have it, and goddamn
I'ma have it for you hell, shit, damn right
Now, how much was it though? Uh, huh
Huh? Half? Half nigga? You crazy, boy
You crazy
Bitch, you crazy as fuck bitch, bitch
You better suck half my dick!

Yeah, I pay taxes, so much taxes
Shit don't make sense
Where do my dollars go? You see lately
I ain't been convinced
I guess they say my dollars supposed
To build roads and schools
But my niggas barely graduate
They ain't got the tools
Maybe 'cause the tax dollars that
I make sure I send
Get spent hirin' some teachers that
Don't look like them
And the curriculum be tricking them
Them dollars I spend
Got us learning about the heroes
With the whitest of skin
One thing about the men
That's controlling the pen
That write history
They always seem to white-out they sins
Maybe we'll never see a black man
In the White House again
I'll write a check to the IRS
My pockets get slim damn, do I even have a
Say 'bout where it's goin'?
Some older nigga told me to start votin'
I said "Democracy is too fuckin' slow"
If I'm givin' y'all this hard-earned bread
I wanna know
Better yet, let me decide, bitch, it's 2018
Let me pick the things I'm funding
From an app on my screen
Better that than letting wack
Congressman I've never seen
Dictate where my money go
Straight into the palms of some
Money hungry company that
Make guns that circulate the country And
Then wind up in my hood
Making bloody clothes
Stray bullet hit a young boy
With a snotty nose
From the concrete, he was prolly rose
Now his body froze and nobody knows
What to tell his mother
He did good at the white
Man schools unlike his brother
Who was lost in the streets all day
Not using rubbers
So right now, he got two on the way
Still sleep on covers in his mama house
She can't take this shit no more
She want him out
On the morning of the funeral
Just as she's walking out wiping tears away
Grabbing her keys and sunglasses
She remember that she gotta file her taxes
Damn

(Whoa whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Whoa whoa whoa whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)