[Chorus: TLC]
I'm on my way, on my way, on my way down,
I'm on my way, on my way, on my way down.
You're the one that was trying to keep me way down,
But like the sun know you know, I found my way back ‘round.
[Verse 1: J. Cole]
They tell me I should fix my grill ‘cause I got money now,
I ain't gon' sit around and front like I ain't thought about it.
A perfect smile is more appealin', but it's funny how
My shit is crooked look at how far I done got without it.
I keep my twisted grill just to show the kids it's real,
We ain't picture-perfect but we worth the picture still,
I got smart, I got rich, and I got bitches still,
And they all look like my eyebrows: thick as hell.
Love yourself, girl, or nobody will.
Oh, you a woman? I don't know how you deal
With all the pressure to look impressive and go out in heels.
I feel for you,
Killin' yourself to find a man that'll kill for you,
You wake up, put makeup on,
Stare in the mirror, but it's clear that you can't face what's wrong,
No need to fix what God already put his paint brush on,
Your roommate yellin', ‘Why you gotta take so long?'
What it's like to have a crooked smile?
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: J. Cole]
To all the women with the flaws, know it's hard, my darling,
You wonder why you lonely and your man's not callin'.
You keep fallin' victim ‘cause you insecure,
And when I tell you that you beautiful, you can't be sure.
‘Cause he don't seem to want you back and it's got you askin',
So all you see is what you lackin', not what you packin',
Take it from a man that loves what you got,
And, baby girl, you a star, don't let ‘em tell you you not.
Now is it real? Eyebrows, fingernails, hair.
Is it real? If it's not, girl, you don't care,
‘Cause what's real is something that the eyes can't see,
That the hands can't touch, that them broads can't be, and that's you.
Never let ‘em see you frown,
And if you need a friend to pick you up, I'll be around,
And we can ride with the windows down, the music loud,
I can tell you ain't laughed in a while,
But I wanna see that crooked smile.
[Chorus]
[Bridge:]
Crooked smile, we could style on ‘em. Back ‘round.
Crooked smile, we could style on ‘em. Back ‘round.
You're the one that was trying to keep me way down,
But like the sun know you know, I found my way back ‘round.
[Verse 3: J. Cole]
We don't look nothing like the people on the screen,
You know, them movie stars, picture-perfect beauty queens.
But we got dreams and we got the right to chase ‘em,
Look at the nation, that's a crooked smile braces couldn't even straighten.
Seem like half the race is either on probation, or in jail,
Wonder why we inhale, ‘cause we in hell already.
I asked if my skin pale, would I then sell like Eminem or Adele?
But one more time for the ‘Ville,
And fuck all of that beef shit, nigga, let's make a mil.
Hey, officer man, we don't want nobody gettin' killed,
Just open up that cell, let my brother outta jail.
I got money for the bail now, well now,
If you askin', will I tell now? Hell naw!
I ain't snitchin' ‘cause
Man, they get them niggas stitches now,
If you was around, then you wouldn't need a witness now,
How you like this crooked smile?
[Chorus]
[Bridge]