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J. Cole - Last Call Lyrics



J. Cole - Last Call Lyrics
Official




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, ay (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 f*ckin' 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, writin' rhymes, thinkin' deep, fightin' 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
Ayy, I'm just gettin' warmed up, my nigga (here's to the Roc)
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 my 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 the shit and they ain't even farted yet
Style incomplete like a garbage-ass quarterback
My offense is for real
Ayy, f*ck sacked, niggas gettin' coffined in the Ville
Way too often and it feels wrong
New York niggas f*ck 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
F*ck spinnin' on my pivot, homie
I'm finna travel 'til the refs blow the whistle on me
I got a whole f*ckin' 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 give 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, dawg
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' villains just 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 f*ckin' 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 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 a 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, 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 you like, "How the f*ck 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, you know, obviously, shit, everything happens for a reason
So, shit, fast forward to The Warm Up
This is just 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 f*ckin' coach is passin' 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 f*ckin'
With a better f*ckin' 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 my nigga Mike Rooney
My nigga E, shout out my whole f*ckin' 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 f*ckin', 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 league, nigga
Trust me, I ain't get no f*ckin' 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 (yeah)
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, dawg (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 f*ckin' long? (By any means, Eris)
This shit's been supposed to fade out
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-uh-uh-uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




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, ay (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 f*ckin' 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, writin' rhymes, thinkin' deep, fightin' 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
Ayy, I'm just gettin' warmed up, my nigga (here's to the Roc)
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 my 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 the shit and they ain't even farted yet
Style incomplete like a garbage-ass quarterback
My offense is for real
Ayy, f*ck sacked, niggas gettin' coffined in the Ville
Way too often and it feels wrong
New York niggas f*ck 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
F*ck spinnin' on my pivot, homie
I'm finna travel 'til the refs blow the whistle on me
I got a whole f*ckin' 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 give 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, dawg
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' villains just 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 f*ckin' 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 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 a 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, 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 you like, "How the f*ck 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, you know, obviously, shit, everything happens for a reason
So, shit, fast forward to The Warm Up
This is just 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 f*ckin' coach is passin' 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 f*ckin'
With a better f*ckin' 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 my nigga Mike Rooney
My nigga E, shout out my whole f*ckin' 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 f*ckin', 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 league, nigga
Trust me, I ain't get no f*ckin' 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 (yeah)
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, dawg (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 f*ckin' long? (By any means, Eris)
This shit's been supposed to fade out
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-uh-uh-uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jermaine Cole
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Back to: J. Cole




J. Cole - Last Call Video
(Show video at the top of the page)


Performed By: J. Cole
From Album: The Warm Up
Language: English
Length: 7:33
Written by: Jermaine Cole
Year: 2009

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