Music Video

J. Cole - Last Call (Official Audio)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cole
J. Cole
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Kanye West
Kanye West
Producer

Lyrics

Yeah, Warm Up La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la Ayy, yeah Fayettenam Now I am (Here's to the Roc) Hey, and they ask and they ask and they ask And I tell 'em Mr. Fayettenam (Mr. Roc-a-Fella) Wave your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and (Here's to the Roc) Yeah, Warm Up This is the last call for alcohol, this is The Warm Up (Mr. Roc-a-Fella) Warm Up, yeah, look Now to the few niggas out there who heard my last shit Which, if I must say so myself, that was a classic I never been the type to ride my own coat tail But it's obvious I'm here to stay, a fuckin' hotel I came up, I warmed up, the next up, I blow up If you ain't peep the trend by now, with each rap, I go up Look, all he wanted was a deal, so when he got it, he just faded But tell me what's a deal when you wanna be the greatest? So, Jay, I appreciate it, hell of a steppin' stone Wonder if he see it in my eyes, I'm tryna get the throne Wonder if the people know how many nights I spent alone Makin' beats, writing' rhymes, thinkin' deep, fighting' time Gettin' better, but wasn't gettin' younger And all that time can make the most confident nigga wonder But never doubted or allowed that shit to phase me, yo Just switched my thoughts up like the stations on the radio Nigga, now I am (Here's to the Roc) Yeah, yeah, and they ask and they ask and they ask and I tell 'em Mr. Fayettenam (Mr. Roc-a-Fella) Wave your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and (Here's to the Roc) Ayy, I'm just gettin' warmed up, my nigga Hey, this the last call for alcohol, this is The Warm Up, yeah (Mr. Roc-a-Fella) So get your back up off the wall, yeah Now may I never slip up or let grip up I know my girl be prayin' "Lord just keep his pants zipped up Now if some groupie bitch is on his dick, then make it stiff up At least give the nigga common sense to wrap his dick up" Toast, let's lift up our glasses and sip up We fly past, they look up, they don't last, they give up They don't blast, we clip up, then empty And indeed, we hit the target, yes These niggas think they shit and they ain't even farted yet Style incomplete like a garbage-ass quarterback My offense is for real Ayy, fuck sacked Niggas gettin' coffined in the Ville way too often and it feels wrong New York niggas fuck with me, I got 'em singin' Ville songs Guess it's only right because we grew up singin' they shit Big shit, Mase shit, Nas shit, Jay shit Time for a Carolina nigga to take his place with the greats A slim nigga makin' bold statements, uh "Ayy, J. Cole, how you do that there? I hear you're blowin' up, my nigga", I'm like "True that", yeah In NY, but smile every time I flew back there That Carolina, Fayettenam, oh yeah, my crew back there I go home, been so long, they sayin', "You back here?" It took a turn for the worse, boy don't move back here Don't do that, yo, who that? He rep the Ville when he spit it Told you he'd be back with a record deal and he did it, nigga Fuck spinnin' on my pivot, homie I'm finna travel 'til the refs blow the whistle on me I got a whole fuckin' city that's just sittin' on me But yet, it fits on my back, my state is sittin' on that Will I drop? I think not, I get up while they stop Like the sleeves on tank tops, they ain't gave it all they got So they flop, so, hey, watch how I'm finna take they spot Now I'm startin' and they not, let me show you how to stay hot I play not, man, I'm killin' 'em, even your idols feelin' 'em, dog The same nigga used to chill in the mall While they was still in the mall, I was up there spillin' my rap The hero fightin' villians to put the Ville on the map Now I am (here's to the Roc) Yeah, yeah And they ask and they ask and they ask and I tell 'em Mr. Fayettenam (Mr. Roc-a-Fella) Wave your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and (Here's to the Roc) Hey, yeah, this the last call for alcohol This is the fuckin' Warm Up, yeah (Mr. Roc-a-Fella) Get your ass up off the wall, yeah Yeah, man, so, shit, this was The Warm Up Um, what can I say, what can I say? If you heard heard The Come Up, you know what that was about Just a lil' nigga from North Carolina, man Fayettenam, to be exact Moved to NYC Um, you know, chasin' the dream I used college, if y'all niggas don't know I used college as like the tool to get to New York That's all I really had I ain't have no family up here or nothin' like that I came up here on scholarship, nigga went to college And the, and the whole time I ain't even think I was gon' have to finish college I just thought, you know I'd be signed by like my freshman year So I wouldn't have to finish college But it didn't happen like that, obviously Nigga graduated, um, and things started fallin' into place I got way more focused, I dropped The Come Up And I look at The Come Up like niggas, like Like how kinda how when I was in high school Just picture this The Warm up is about a nigga who did not make the team When he tried out And I know it's a lotta niggas out there that know that feeling, man You try out You think you deserve to be on the team And you go that day to look at the cut list You wake up, you know, you can't even sleep You just like, "Damn, I'm gon' make the team tomorrow I did my thing in tryouts" You go to the list All the niggas is lookin' at they names on the list Some niggas is like, "Aw shit, I see my name I'm good, I'm good, nigga, I'm good, I see my name" And you lookin' for your name And you kinda playin' the back, tryna wait 'til niggas clear out 'Cause you not sure And you go to the list and, and your name ain't there Like, and like, "How the fuck did I not make this team? I'm better than him, I'm better than him, I'm better than him" So a lotta niggas either quit or some niggas'll go harder So that's how I kinda took the rap shit when I put out The Come Up 'Cause ever since I was like fifteen I thought I was supposed to be signed But it didn't hap- you know, obviously Shit, everything happens for a reason So, shit, fast forward to The Warm Up This is just like me, like, you know Bein' that nigga that's practicin' and makin' sure it's no way It's undeniable that when I go to tryouts There's no way the fuckin' coach is passing' up on me, my nigga So that's what this whole mixtape was about and Lo and behold, you know As I'm finishin' up the mixtape, the deal come You know? Thank God, I'm blessed Everything happens for a reason And it couldn't have been with a more fuckin' With a better squad, nigga, I got You, you know the niggas I got on my squad If you, if you listen to this Then you might've heard who I signed with I ain't even gon' blast it off like that Shout out to, you know, Mark Pitts, definitely You know? Shout out to my nigga Mike Rooney, my nigga E Shout out my whole fuckin' crew, man That's what The Warm Up is about, man RJ, what's good? Mike Shaw, my nigga Mez Mez held me down, nigga More than anybody in the fuckin', in the whole crew, honestly You know what I'm sayin'? So, shit, let's get it, man We got a lotta shit comin' for '09, for '010' 011, 0-goddamn-35 That's all I got, man, that's the Warm up, man, I made the team So when you go from makin' the team, now what you gotta do, nigga? You gotta start You gotta be a starter, you gotta make it to college You gotta make it from college to the fuckin' league, man Trust me, it ain't get no fuckin' deal and relax, man I feel like I ain't made it yet, period, nigga And that's all I really gotta say, yo, it's The Warm Up Thank you for listenin', man Yeah Ced Y, what up? Nervous Reck, what up? Barbed Wire, what up? Just let me give a couple shout outs, um, shit (Um, my nigga A-Rob) Kirk Lightburn, what up? (My nigga Lee, drunk-ass nigga Jams) Ah, Sha Money, what up, man? (Shout out to Mimi) Lotta respect G-Unit, Hov, it's all love, my nigga Tony Yayo showed love, Lloyd Banks showed love, nigga I was gettin' love from G-Unit niggas, dog (Say, Uncle) Who would've thought? (Who'd I forget? Oh, Omen, Omen, what up, my nigga? Omen) Know what I'm sayin'? Shout out my mother, my brother, man I'm just gon talk until the beat run out, man (Yeah, BBGUN) You know? Yo, how do you get this beat goin' for so fuckin' long? (By any means, Eris) This shit's been supposed to fade out Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-uh-uh-uh
Writer(s): Kanye West, Kenneth Robert Lewis, Michael Perretta, Anthony Von Williams Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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