LYRICS
作词 : J. Cole/Ronnie Foster/Anthony Parrino
作曲 : J. Cole/Ronnie Foster/Anthony Parrino
Producer：J.Cole
Writers：Elite/Ronnie Foster/J.Cole
Samples：Mystic Brew(1972)—Ronnie Foster
Forbidden Fruit(2013)—J. Cole
I guess the neighbors think I'm selling shit, selling shit
Okay, the neighbors think I'm selling shit, selling shit
Selling shit, selling shit, selling shit
Yeah, I don't want no picture with the president
I just wanna talk to the man
Speak for the boys in the bando
And my n!gga never walkin' again
Apologize if I'm harpin' again
I know these things happen often
But I'm back on the scene
I was lost in a dream
As I write this, the team down in Austin
I been buildin' me a house
Back home in the South, ma
Won't believe what it's costin'
And it's fit for a king, right?
Or a n!gga that could sing
And explain all the pain that it cost him
My sixteen should've came with a coffin
Fxck the fame and the fortune
Well, maybe not the fortune
But one thing is for sure though
The fame is exhaustin'
That's why I moved away, I needed privacy
Surrounded by the trees and Ivy League
Students that's recruited highly
Thinkin' "You do you and I do me"
Crib has got a big 'ol back 'ol yard
My n!ggas stand outside and pass cigars
Filled with bullshits, laughin' har
Thankful that they friend's a platinum star
In the driveway there's no rapper cars
Just some sh!t to get from back and forth
Just some sh!t to get from back and forth
Welcome to the Sheltuh, this is pure
We'll help you if you've felt too insecure
To be the star you always knew you were
Wait, I think police is at the door
Okay, the neighbors think I'm selling shit
Hm, I guess the neighbors think I'm selling shit, selling shit
The neighbors think I'm--neighbors think I'm--
(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)
I think the neighbors think I'm selling dope
(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)
I guess the neighbors think I'm selling shit, selling shit
Selling shit, selling shit, selling shit
Well, motherfxcker, I am
Some things you can't escape:
Death, taxes, and a ra-
-cist society that make
Every n!gga feel like a candidate
For a Trayvon kinda fate
Even when your crib sit on a lake
Even when your plaques hang on a wall
Even when the president jam your tape
Took a little break just to annotate
How I feel, damn, it's late
I can't sleep cause I'm paranoid
Black in a white man territory
Cops bust in with the army guns
No evidence of the harm we done
Just a couple neighbors that assume we slang
Only time they see us we be on the news, in chains, damn
Don't follow me
Don't follow me
Don't follow me
Don't follow me
Okay, the neighbors think I'm selling shit
I guess the neighbors think I'm selling shit, selling shit
The neighbors think I'm...neighbors think I'm--
(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)
I think the neighbors think I'm selling dope
(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)
I guess the neighbors think I'm selling shit, selling shit
Selling shit, selling shit, selling shit
Well motherfxcker, I am
I am, I am, I am
Well, motherfxcker, I am
I think the neighbors think I'm selling dope
I am, I am, I am
Well, motherfxcker, I am
So much for integration
Don't know what I was thinkin'
I'm movin' back to south side
So much for integration
Don't know what I was thinkin'
I'm movin' back to south side