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Correct Syrhenz Lyrics
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Artists: J
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J. Cole
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Correct Syrhenz
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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: J. Cole] Okay, yo, niggas don't want drama (nah) See they talk proper, but when it comes time to spark They all tryna catch alzheimers You all talking no wack shit You outta get smacked faggot I seen harder niggas in drag I'm bigger than that So test me, don't even ask about it Do the math and count it You ain't got half the talent Niggas laugh and doubt it But only 'till my cash is sprouted Put up your best track, I'll run laps around it Yo, I'm coming for death, you running for life Fuck a gun or a knife My numbers is right Enough of this hype Let's get to it Nigga you sick, prove it Your style's transparent Mr. Magoo could look through it And it's true I'm not a thug, but I handle mines And grammar wise you analyze, I vandalize Which man standing trying to get branded with death Falling off stage with a mic stand on your chest Yo, take a number Cause all these niggas thinking they can rumble with the rapist Suffer from some sort of brain disorder The rain is pouring now Nigga check the brain storm Won't stop until my name is embroidered on the gravestone [Hook: ?] The therapist boy you like collab A pair of fist lefty Mr. do right have's And there's your [?] Embarrassment, how bad too delicate for carelessness You out your element Syrhenz (×4) You out your element Syrhenz (×4) [Verse 2: J. Cole] Loose cannon, when I shoot amateurs Truth [?] Ain't a crew standing can do damage This shit is rock solid Niggas bark harder than rottweilers I rock polish, I spit top notch You rock bottom Assed out, my raps similar to a crack house So dope these niggas take two puffs then pass out Relax now, never back down When the bells rung, cause I serve beef raw but well done You can tell hell where I hail from The reigning champ, main event rhyming Y'all still in training camp Fucking with me so you gotta be nice But you got better odds trying to hit the lottery twice Nucka, stop the nonsense or get knocked unconscious The rhymes I'm designing is monstrous My arsenal bomb shit Got the haters loving it now Watch my shit hit the ceiling 'Till it's covered in brown [Hook] [Verse 3: J. Cole] The therapist leading the pack Type of cat to ball You call without asking, no bringing it back I'm made checking Place your wages and bets The stakes is raising If you ain't gotcha money on me, you brain's defecting Pains ejecting, whenever my name is mentioned The games is lynching, hang and hitch me This natural instinct More than half you faggots against me Now watch as I turn this beat to minced meat Case closed, snap souls along with pesos My entire camp play cold, below the waist blows Never take no for responses, I'm word boxing You [?] watch as I flip and take the world hostage [Bridge: J. Cole] The therapist niggas Yo, you out your element What the fuck niggas thinking 'bout Yo, check it, yo You out your element Yeah niggas, yo you out your element What the fuck ya'll niggas thinking 'bout [Hook]
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