Paroles de la chanson Poor Thang par J. Cole
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Paroles de la chanson Poor Thang par J. Cole
(So close)
[J. Cole]
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
[J. Cole]
Picture my soul climbin' out an infinite hole
Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough
If I survive, then I'll strive to hit with the flow
Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow
[J. Cole]
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
[J. Cole]
Picture my soul climbin' out an infinite hole
Where niggas die over pride and live for the dough
If I survive, then I'll strive to hit with the flow
Hopin' these waves will pave, but the ripples is slow
And I'm conflicted with no digits to show
But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole, the temperature's low
But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin' like the tires on the whip in the snow
Vicious for sure, I'm tiptoein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'
Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'
Face tense from rent owin'
Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'
Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher
Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh
My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes
And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain
I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain
But fantasies of frivolous hoes grippin' this pole, the temperature's low
But you know that ain't stoppin' lil' nigga from slidin' like the tires on the whip in the snow
Vicious for sure, I'm tiptoein' around the abyss with sticks blowin'
Piss poor with intentions to glimpse, the wrist glowin'
Face tense from rent owin'
Fist clenched when niggas diss, but since knowin'
Lives expire when niggas pride gets higher
Than the vocal range inside Mariah's vocal chain, uh
My road to fame is rife with spikes and broken lanes
And tolls I can't afford, but I won't complain
I know the more I gotta struggle is the more I gain
Post-traumatic stress on an immature brain
Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games
Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', "Poor thing"
[J. Cole]
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
[Boosie Badazz]
You wanna talk shit? (Talk shit) You wanna run your mouth? (Run your mouth)
You want some gangsters front your motherfuckin' house?
We'll set this bitch off (Yeah), set this bitch off
Leaves another corpse, young pup playin' war games
Now he's handcuffed, old lady sayin', "Poor thing"
[J. Cole]
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
[Boosie Badazz]
You wanna talk shit? (Talk shit) You wanna run your mouth? (Run your mouth)
You want some gangsters front your motherfuckin' house?
We'll set this bitch off (Yeah), set this bitch off
We'll set this bitch off, set this bitch off (Yeah)
You wanna
[J. Cole]
Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum
This nigga back home been talkin' slick and I done heard him
You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on
You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em
He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school
Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him
I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden
You wanna
[J. Cole]
Here go a song that gets this shit off of my sternum
This nigga back home been talkin' slick and I done heard him
You get your name goin', niggas like that gon' throw they dirt on
You make you some coins, niggas gon' act like you ain't earn 'em
He talk like he live, but I remember him from high school
Man, deep down inside, know he a bitch, I wanna hurt him
I know that's my pride, I carry it just like a burden
When egos is flared, beware, that's when they close your curtain (Put your hands up)
That's when they close your curtain (Put your motherfu chill, nigga)
That's when they close your curtain (Really gon' pull out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill)
That's when they close your curtain (Really gon' pull out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)
That's when they close (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)
[J. Cole]
Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade
Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed
Win or you lose, live to fight another day
And if I take a L, I won't feel no way
That's when they close your curtain (Put your motherfu chill, nigga)
That's when they close your curtain (Really gon' pull out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill)
That's when they close your curtain (Really gon' pull out a gun, nigga? Yo, chill, chill, chill, chill)
That's when they close (You gon' shoot me? No, no, no)
[J. Cole]
Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade
Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed
Win or you lose, live to fight another day
And if I take a L, I won't feel no way
[J. Cole]
Plenty nights a nigga didn't eat, punk bitch
Rent owed, damn near was on the street, punk bitch
Weren't no Western Unions from you when I needed, punk bitch
All a sudden, I'm buzzin', oh, now it's beef, punk bitch?
Go on and pop off, get fucked 'bout your mystique, punk bitch
I knew you way before you was actin' street, punk bitch
Started rollin' with niggas that's packin' heat, punk bitch
You more like me than them niggas, you still a geek, punk bitch
You can't hide it with tattoos on your physique, punk bitch
And that lingo you added to how you speak, punk bitch
And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch
So how the fuck all a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?
You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch
You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit
Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch
Moved to Forest Hill Drive and it was peace for a bit
'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched
In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch
And you grew up with both your parents to teach, punk bitch
So how the fuck all a sudden you turnin' G, punk bitch?
You a slave to the peer pressure, you're weak, punk bitch
You ain't claimin' no real section, your street wasn't lit
Man, your shit look like mine, with hella tree trunks, bitch
Moved to Forest Hill Drive and it was peace for a bit
'Til domestic turned violent, then a key just switched
In the back of my mind, I gotta be somethin', bitch
That's when I started rhymin' and makin' beats, son of a bitch
Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son of a bitch
Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?
Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch
Go on and shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch
And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch (Ayo)
Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch
Tried to lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up (Son of a bitch)
('Cause I've been through worser things, punk bitch) Real
(Punk bitch) Huh
Way before you was lyin' 'bout touchin' keys, son of a bitch
Heard you say I ain't real, that's your belief, huh, bitch?
Well, look, I'm back in the 'Ville, so we can see, punk bitch
Go on and shoot me the fair one when we meet, punk bitch
And don't be bringin' no hammers, nah, don't cheat, punk bitch (Ayo)
Nah, don't cheat, punk bitch
Tried to lean on that shit, nigga, I want my fuckin' head up (Son of a bitch)
('Cause I've been through worser things, punk bitch) Real
(Punk bitch) Huh
[J. Cole]
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
Poor thing, young pup's playin' war games
He wanted love, but he only made more pain
[J. Cole]
Don't pull out no pistol, run me my fade
Come get your issue, no one gets sprayed
Win or you lose, live to fight another day
And if I take a L, I won't feel no way
('Cause I've been through worser things)
[J. Cole]
Hey, what's up? Hey, what's up?
Hey, what's up?
Yo, what's good?
Hey
Hey, what's up? What's up, how you been?
Nah, fuck
Your call has been forwarded to voicemail
The person you're trying to rea
Fuck
Que racontent les paroles de la chanson Poor Thang de J. Cole ?
Avec « Poor Thang », J. Cole livre une réflexion poignante sur les mécanismes de la violence et l'imposture de la culture de rue. Le titre fonctionne comme un diptyque : d'un côté, la tragédie universelle de la jeunesse sacrifiée sur l'autel de l'orgueil ; de l'autre, une confrontation personnelle et cinglante. Le rappeur de Caroline du Nord utilise la métaphore des « jeux de guerre » pour souligner l'inconscience de ceux qui cherchent la validation sociale à travers le danger, transformant leur quête d'affection en un sillage de souffrance.
Le récit bascule lorsqu'il interpelle un ancien camarade de lycée. Cole brise le mythe du « dur à cuire » en révélant les origines privilégiées de son adversaire, qualifié de « slave to peer pressure » (esclave de la pression des pairs). Cette déconstruction du « mystique » de la rue est centrale : Cole fustige ceux qui adoptent un jargon et des tatouages pour masquer leur absence de vécu réel. L'usage d'un intermède vocal de Boosie Badazz sert ici de contrepoint, illustrant l'agitation que Cole tente de calmer par un appel à la raison.
Le message final est un plaidoyer pour la survie. En invitant son rival à régler leurs comptes de manière traditionnelle (« run me my fade ») sans recourir aux armes à feu, Cole cherche à briser le cycle des « vies qui expirent » prématurément. Entre introspection sur son propre parcours vers la gloire et dénonciation des faux-semblants, le morceau souligne la fragilité des ego masculins. Pour Cole, la véritable force ne réside pas dans la simulation de la menace, mais dans la capacité à assumer son identité réelle, loin des artifices d'une dangerosité de façade.
Le récit bascule lorsqu'il interpelle un ancien camarade de lycée. Cole brise le mythe du « dur à cuire » en révélant les origines privilégiées de son adversaire, qualifié de « slave to peer pressure » (esclave de la pression des pairs). Cette déconstruction du « mystique » de la rue est centrale : Cole fustige ceux qui adoptent un jargon et des tatouages pour masquer leur absence de vécu réel. L'usage d'un intermède vocal de Boosie Badazz sert ici de contrepoint, illustrant l'agitation que Cole tente de calmer par un appel à la raison.
Le message final est un plaidoyer pour la survie. En invitant son rival à régler leurs comptes de manière traditionnelle (« run me my fade ») sans recourir aux armes à feu, Cole cherche à briser le cycle des « vies qui expirent » prématurément. Entre introspection sur son propre parcours vers la gloire et dénonciation des faux-semblants, le morceau souligne la fragilité des ego masculins. Pour Cole, la véritable force ne réside pas dans la simulation de la menace, mais dans la capacité à assumer son identité réelle, loin des artifices d'une dangerosité de façade.
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