Problems (Demo)

By J. Cole

Released on July 29, 2010

74K Views

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[Verse 1]

Dear Mrs. Bill Collector

I know you just doing your job

Don’t mean to disrespect you

But we’ve been going through this thing since way back

I told you when I get the dough I would pay back

But I got problems baby yeah if you only knew

I got bigger problems baby, yeah, hey

So why you talking about the money that I owe

Like as if I didn’t know man

It don’t mean nothing to me

Cause right now I got my little boy crying

And my grandmother dying

Could you please stop fucking with me

Listen here, I ain't looking for no tears

But my brother got a year

And my Momma keep smoking that shit

On top of that, I’m broke

Please put that in your notes

For the next one to call me up talking that shit

And then ahana...


[Verse 2]

Hey

Dear, Mr. Policeman

Ay am I wrong, ain't you suppose to keep the peace man?

I coulda swore that I was driving pretty peaceful

So why the hell is you pulling over me fo'?

Is it this black Mercedes?

Oh naw I get it, I get it, I get it

Or cause I’m Black, hmmm maybe?

Yeah, hey, tell me why my hands start sweating

And I hold my breath every time that you get behind me

I turn my music down so you won’t hear a sound

Man I’m nervous like I got a couple pounds on me

You pulled me over, you frown on me

With your flashlight, tell me what do you see

Thug niggas, drug dealers, it's a trip

Every nigga in this whip gotta motherfucking college degree

And then ahana... unh


[Verse 3]

Yeah, my middle finger to the law

I'm busting off, tryna touch the sky

My teacher said impossible but I’mma fucking try

Plus how he gon’ tell me, he don't make the rules

There’s niggas dying every day man we don’t make the news

Instead they talking bout some thunderstorm, cyclones

Timmy got his bike stole

Top story: Tiger Woods be fucking all these White hoes

Anchorman stop snitching

Cut to commercial, he be texting all his side bitches

Hey my goodness, how ironic

On trial for possession of some chronic

My lawyer came to court, man he was higher than a comet

Hey your honor, is you kidding

How you sit above me

Are you perfect motherfucker

How you finna judge me?

When you home you don't cuss, drink and puff like us?

These cops is bad boys, baby just like Puff

They hate they jobs and they days be fucked up like us

At the end of the day you niggas just like us

You niggas just like us