Daylyt ft J.Cole – A Plate of Collard Greens

Daylyt and J Cole are known for their impeccable wordplay, and they’ve once again delivered on the new track “A Plate of Collard Greens.” The duo previously impressed fans with their collaboration on “Pi” from Cole’s last album, but their latest surprise release takes things to another level. Dropping the song on Monday with no prior announcement, they let their bars do the talking—and unsurprisingly, they hit hard.

Set over a soulful instrumental loop, “A Plate of Collard Greens” is minimalistic on the musical front, but that decision allows the intricate rhyme schemes and clever double entendres to shine through. Both Daylyt and J Cole are masterful lyricists on their own, but there’s an undeniable chemistry when they come together. They seem to push each other to new heights, and that energy is palpable on this track.

Daylyt opens the song with a rapid-fire, stream-of-consciousness flow that’s both dense with rhymes and impressively coherent. J Cole takes over in the second half, delivering what many are calling his best verse since his controversial “Big Three” beef apology to Kendrick Lamar. With rumors swirling about his upcoming album, this new verse is a promising sign of what’s to come.

Links

Save Link (Server 2) mp3

Save m4a File (iphone, Apple)

Daylyt ft J.Cole – A Plate of Collard Greens Lyrics

[Intro: Daylyt]Yeah
P, I see you
Oh, this shit feel like-
You know that feelin’ when-?
Yeah

[Verse 1: Daylyt]Just pray for me on the third
It’s a body chopped in thirds
I heard a lot of sheep in the circle
And you the goat, the Judas comin’ to purge
It hurt him everytime you splurge
All this time spent, the mind sent, the haters envy
It make me happy knowin’ they can never touch me
I tackle every goal he made, they think we playin’ rugby
The [?] and the ghost look like a floor at the haunted house
Six hunnid thousand on two hunnid acres
I know it hurt ’em bad
Paparazzi peek, we close the curtains
I know it hurt ’em, mad
Yeah, this like a verse that the pastor gave from the pulpit
They matador me but I ain’t here for the bullshit
Never stress who they gon’ bless today
I knew I’d get a mil’
I came from Section 8, ain’t stressed a plate, yeah
The rest is greatness, it’s history in the makin’
His story he makin’
Take it into fact that we was taken
Placed inside the trap, tapped with laxatives
And we think that we runnin’ shit?
Relax and relapse, dope lift up a hunnid clips
Some blocks turn haunted, growth stunted
Like Barnum and Bailey, hard for the babies
Clownin’ and drownin’ they surroundings if an opp out
Backseat of the police car but never cop out
The pole too long to stop doubtin’, for better days
The sun bright out, children, let it raise
If you hear this, keep your head up, praise
Go

[Interlude: J. Cole]Go
Go
Yeah
Uh

[Verse 2: J. Cole]The reign is obsolete
Jermaine is out, the beast celebrated
Paraded out in the streets for days, if not for weeks
For bringing us out the bleakest, burning pit
My words is slick, when it’s my turn to kick
I apply pressure like I’m trained to stop a leak
How vain is my belief?
To say that I could be the greatest y’all done seen
With my cadence proper, from days I laid across the street
From these Caucasian neighbors, new kids I stayed around
I’d green and not as mean as my homies that played on project swings
What fate has not foreseen
My brain stained, engrained with the stories of slain bodies from heinous robberies
And rated R regimes, exchanging raw for cream
Tricked ’em and went left, they pull up shootin’ like Tatum off a screen
The bills is due, as kids we knew the way the calls would ring
Since mom ain’t paid ’em off, we trained to watch the names across the screen
And let collections pass just like we failed to make an offering
Gotta channel thoughts, cause damn, the cable off, it seems
Deep down, I hated Halloween, with all that I have seen
Who needs another way to cause a scream?
Dangerous as the king of pop, how well they spin your block
No moves, minimal, smooth criminals
The whole gang doin’ insane amount of lean
This ain’t prescribed ’cause there’s no doc’ for pain they harboring
So pray to God, but it’s I, ’cause Satan’s catered all their dreams
Spiritually malnourished, dehydrated
Now they feign for truth in these flows
Food for they souls, to make it all serene, uh
Well, here’s a plate of collard greens (Uh)
Yeah