Lyrics Grown Simba - J. Cole

Grown Simba

Yeah, yeah
Yeah, uh Now I was dreaming 'bout a deal at the age of thirteen
I was fiending for the mills, I ain’t talking Burger King
Some of my niggas in the Ville, all they did was serve fiends
Fuck scales, I had skills, all day rehearsing
Them pretty boys had them gals, spent they time flirting
All they wanted was some waves like they fucking surfing
Hold up now, don’t get it twisted, I ain’t hating, do your thing
I was like a young Simba; couldn’t wait to be the king
Now a nigga is the prince
Hopped over the fence where the grass way greener
Look at shorty ass, way meaner
Something like Serena mixed with Trina, have you seen her?
She fine enough to be Ms. Howard, word to Adina
My money like a senior, watch it graduate
Now it’s time to eat, I’m letting all my niggas grab a plate
Gravitate to real shit, stay away from phonies
These niggas heard about me, now they acting like they know me Keep on saying «Where you going, nigga?» (shit)
It ain’t no telling (huh, yeah)
«Ay, where you going, nigga?» (hey)
It ain’t no telling (yeah)
They keep on saying «Where you going, nigga?» (going nigga, ay)
It ain’t no telling (yeah)
Can’t tell you where I’m going, just know I won’t stop
Goodbye to the bottom, hello to the top, uh Pardon the interruption, a proper introduction is necessary
When your shit is legendary, man
Greedy niggas wouldn’t let me in the cafeteria’n
'Cause they ain’t believe, suddenly they Presbyterian
The hoes is librarians; they looking me up She got to Jones like Marion, she licking me up Then we cut, look how she say my name
I got her moaning «J. Cole», they used to say Jermaine
I never change, I’m like a corpse in a coffin, six feet, shit’s deep
I was low, just a dollar and some hope fixed me
'Cause I was broke, plus the weed that I would smoke would make it worser
Lord, please let my problems disappear like Ron Mercer
I’m a star; Converses
Conversin' with them girls with them curves like cursive
They open like curtains
'Cause my shit is unheard of like curses on the radio
Same bitches used to play me though, now they yelling—
«Where you going, nigga?» (shit)
It ain’t no telling (huh, yeah)
«Ay, where you going, nigga?» (shit)
It ain’t no telling (yeah)
They keep on saying «Where you going, nigga?» (going nigga)
It ain’t no telling (yeah)
I can’t tell you where I’m going, just know I won’t stop
Goodbye to the bottom, hello to the top
Yeah, I left the city for a minute, but it’s still on my back
Told my niggas «Ay, I’m finna put the Ville on the map
I’ll be back, and I’m coming with a deal and a plaque.»
'Cause I’m ill, bitch, they couldn’t make a pill for the rap
Pouring liquor for my niggas that was killed, send 'em back
Came home, shit is real, niggas still in the trap
Hold up now, don’t get it twisted, if you slang, do your thing
Me, I’m like a young Simba; I can’t wait to be the king
Witness the dream
Straight out that Carolina water, I was brought up In the city where the skinny niggas tryna be the ballers
Ain’t no fathers, but the skinny niggas tryna hit they daughters
Sneaking in her crib, but her momma never caught us What they taught us?
Man, them bad bitches only want the ballers, the starters
We hooping, now the hoes wanna guard us Uh, okay, so play D—know what I mean?
And I, I, I’ll put you on the team
Man, this life is but a dream and I need a fast car
Bad broads, fast forward; passport
I’m a fucking rap star
«Ay, where you going, nigga?» (shit)
It ain’t no telling (yeah)
They say this life is but a dream, well I need a fast car
Bad broads, fast forward; passport
I’m a fucking rap star
«Ay, where you going, nigga?» (yeah)
It ain’t no telling