When J. Cole unexpectedly dropped his “Might Delete Later” mixtape on April 5th, 2024, few could have predicted the seismic impact of the closing track, 7 Minute Drill.
With surgical precision, Cole took aim at his once-friend and forever rival Kendrick Lamar in one of the most lyrically impressive and emotionally charged diss tracks in recent memory.
For the unindoctrinated, the tensions between the two superstar MCs had been simmering for years, bubbling up with Kendrick’s thinly-veiled shots at Cole and Drake on the recent single “Like That.”
But most assumed their unique combination of mutual respect and competitive drive would prevent an all-out flare-up of egos.
How wrong we were. 7 Minute Drill plays like a finely sharpened dagger, with Cole’s dexterous wordplay and relentless flow eviscerating Kendrick’s artistry and legacy.
Lines like “Your first sh*t was classic, your last sh*t was tragic” cut deep, implying Kendrick’s prime was a mere prelude to Cole’s current dominance.
Yet amidst the lyrical venom, there remains a nuanced undercurrent. J. Cole seems to struggle with the duality of dissing a peer he once admired, rapping, “Lord, don’t make me have to smoke this nigga ’cause I fuck with him.”
It’s a razor-thin line he walks between asserting his own prowess and outright belittling Kendrick’s accomplishments.
This psyche dissected across 7 Minute Drill is what elevates the track beyond simple ego clashes into a rich, layered representation of artistic competition and conflict.
Cole isn’t just gunning for Kendrick; he’s grappling with the nature of legacy, relevance, and motivation in a way that transcends typical rap beef.
In the hours since its surprising arrival, every aspect of 7 Minute Drill has been dissected to its core.
Whether you view it as the opening salvo in a new era-defining rap battle royale or simply the venting of long-simmering superstar egos, the genius and conflict at the heart of 7 Minute Drill has undeniably reshaped the modern hip-hop landscape.
A Direct Response to Kendrick’s Disses
The tensions that birthed 7 Minute Drill can be traced directly back to Kendrick Lamar’s biting disses aimed at both Cole and Drake on his collabo with Metro Boomin’ and Future “Like That.”
While masterfully veiled in typical Kendrick fashion, the shots were clear enough to draw first blood in this long-simmering feud: “Really though, who you fam, messin’ with am’s?”
On 7 Minute Drill, Cole wastes no time addressing Kendrick’s provocations head-on. “I got a phone call; they say that somebody dissing / You want some attention; it come with extensions,” he raps with wry defiance.
Cole’s opening salvo lines make it clear that he’s not in the mood for mind games—he’s thrown the gauntlet.
Dissecting the Hard-Hitting Production
Just as Cole’s lyrics hit with the blunt force of a sledgehammer, so too does the stark minimalism of 7 Minute Drill production, helmed by the team of T-Minus, Conductor Williams, Al Hug, and Elyas. Pounding 808 bass hits and crisp snares provide the hard-hitting foundation, while oscillating hi-hats add an adrenaline-fueled urgency.
It’s a masterfully stripped-down backdrop, eschewing bells and whistles to let Cole’s blistering rhyme patterns and cadences occupy centre stage. The instrumental’s construction exudes a rawness that almost dares listeners to succumb to the lyrical onslaught. Like Cole, the beat pulls no punches.
A Masterclass in Razor-Sharp Lyricism
From his formative Roc Nation days to the introspective brilliance of albums like 2014 Forest Hills Drive, Cole has long been hailed as a lyrical virtuoso. But 7 Minute Drill represents a wholly new, finely-honed apex of his breathtaking technical skills.
Employing a dizzying array of rhyme schemes ranging from complex couplets to masterful multi-syllabic patterns, Cole’s flow is both relentless and endlessly adaptable. He bobs and weaves flawlessly, contorting cadences seemingly at will while never losing the slightest degree of precision.
Lyrically, lines like “I got here off of bars, not no controversy / Funny thing about it, bitch, I don’t even want the prestige” resound with the confidence of a rapper who knows he’s in his prime and unwilling to cede ground.
Dexterous internal rhymes are peppered throughout, adding extra percussive impact to each already-dense bar.
The scope of Cole’s linguistic talents on display is staggering, instantly ranking 7 Minute Drill among the most technically impressive hip-hop compositions in recent memory.
It’s the kind of lyrically-fueled decimation that will be studied and dissected in rap-cypher circles for years to come.
Questioning Kendrick’s Legacy and Prime
For all of Cole’s breathtaking proficiency on the mic, perhaps the most impactful aspect of 7 Minute Drill is its unflinching critique of Kendrick Lamar’s inarguably iconic legacy and recent artistry. No aspect of Lamar’s revered catalog is spared as J. Cole systematically dismantles the long-held perception of his peer’s unimpeachable greatness.
“Your first shit was classic; your last shit was tragic,” Cole declares in one of the track’s most searing indictments. “Your second shit put niggas to sleep, but they gassed it.” It’s a brutal assertion that Lamar’s most recent outputs have failed to live up to the lofty expectations of his earliest career-defining works.
Even more pointed is Cole’s implication that Kendrick’s prime has already come and gone, with his own artistic heyday just beginning to crest the horizon: “Your third shit was massive, and that was your prime / I was trailin’ right behind, and I just now hit mine.“
It’s the type of dismissal rarely lobbed at an artist of Lamar’s calibre—a daring line in the cultural sand that seems to relish the audaciousness of Cole authoring his own revisionist narrative around Kendrick’s accomplishments.
The Intriguing Beat Switch: A Nod to Drake?
Adding yet another layer of intrigue to 7 Minute Drill is its second-verse beat switch from the stripped-down minimalism of the first half to an ominous, atmospheric selection helmed by producer Conductor Williams.
The contrast is jarring yet cohesive, mirroring Cole’s transition to even more biting, aggressive lyrics aimed at Kendrick.
However, numerous analysts and fans have posited that the sonic switch may represent a deeper meta-textual meaning—specifically, a symbolic nod to Drake and what could be an imminent broadening of this conflict into an all-out three-way tangle between modern rap’s pre-eminent figures.
The darker, haunting production of this section has drawn numerous parallels to Drake’s recent sonic explorations on tracks like “Energy” and “Wu-Tang Forever.”
When coupled with Cole’s own image of being caught in rap’s perpetual crosshairs (“I’m Nino with this thing, this that New Jack City meme / Yeah, I’m aimin’ at G-Money, cryin’ tears before I bust at him“), speculation has run rampant about further disses and responses being inevitable.
Only time will tell if this multi-layered beat shift does indeed foreshadow Drake’s insertion into this burgeoning beef.
But it’s undeniably tantalising subtext that has only amplified the track’s potential as a seminal catalyst for hip-hop’s next high-profile feud.
Just the Beginning of an Epic Rap Beef?
As much as 7 Minute Drill is a captivating artistic statement in its own right, Cole’s closing lines add an air of tantalising ambiguity about whether this tour-de-force diss is merely an opening salvo.
“Hah, let me chill out, man / The Fall Off on the way, n*gga,” he declares in the closing moments, suggesting this lyrical haymaker was just an appetiser for his long-awaited mythical album.
For hardcore Cole fans anticipating the arrival of The Fall Off, it’s a revelation that’s been years in the making—confirmation that the culmination of his artistic statements is looming.
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J. Cole 7 Minute Drill Lyrics
Intro
Yeah
Turn it up
Yeah, turn the vocal up
Uh
Chorus
Light work like it’s PWC
It’s a cold world, keep the heat under your seat
I got a phone call, they say that somebody dissin’
You want some attention, it come with extensions
My dog like, “Say the word,” he on bullshit, he itchin’
Done put in so much work in these streets, he got pension
I told him chill out, how I look havin’ henchman?
If shots get to poppin’, I’m the one doin’ the clenchin’
Verse 1
I came up in the ‘Ville, so I’m good when it’s tension
He still doin’ shows, but fell off like the Simpsons
Your first shit was classic, your last shit was tragic
Your second shit put niggas to sleep, but they gassed it
Your third shit was massive and that was your prime
I was trailin’ right behind and I just now hit mine
Now I’m front of the line with a comfortable lead
How ironic, soon as I got it, now he want somethin’ with me
Well, he caught me at the perfect time, jump up and see
Boy, I got here off of bars, not no controversy
Funny thing about it, bitch, I don’t even want the prestige
Fuck the Grammys ’cause them crackers ain’t never done nothin’ for me, ho
Slugs took my nigga’s soul, drugs took another one
The rap beef ain’t realer than the shit I seen in Cumberland
He averagin’ one hard verse like every thirty months or somethin’
If he wasn’t dissin’, then we wouldn’t be discussin’ him
Lord, don’t make me have to smoke this nigga ’cause I fuck with him
But push come to shove, on this mic, I will humble him
I’m Nino with this thing, this that New Jack City meme
Yeah, I’m aimin’ at G-Money, cryin’ tears before I bust at him
Chorus
Light work like it’s PWC
It’s a cold world, keep the heat under your seat
I got a phone call, they say that somebody dissin’
You want some attention, it come with extensions
My dog like, “Say the word,” he on bullshit, he itchin’
Done put in so much work in these streets, he got pension
I told him chill out, how I look havin’ henchman?
If shots get to poppin’, I’m the one doin’ the—(Conductor, conductor, conductor)
Verse 2
I got mixed feelings ’bout these fuckin’ rap niggas
It’s over for that cap, we official cap peelers
Two-six, we don’t at niggas, we get at niggas
Shoot a nigga lights out, yeah, my dogs stat fillers
Stat stuffers, triple-double, get your ass black duffled
Body bag, body bag, body bag
Cole World your instructor for pilates class
Get a nigga stretched if I feel the disrespect, uh
Your arms might be too short to box with the god
Who live his life without the pressures of a constant facade
I pray for peace, but if a nigga cease these positive vibes
A Falcon 9 inside my pocket, bitch, this rocket gon’ fly
Now it’s poppin’ outside like the top of July
My text flooded with the hunger for a toxic reply
I’m hesitant, I love my brother, but I’m not gonna lie
I’m powered up for real, that shit would feel like swattin’ a fly
Four albums in twelve years, nigga, I can divide
Shit, if this is what you want, I’m indulgin’ in violence
Put pictures in my home, aim the chrome at your eyelids
Fly pebbles at your dome, we the Stone Temple Pilots
This is merely a warning shot to back niggas down
Back in the town where they whippin’ work and traffickin’ pounds
My jack jumpin’ ’bout a rapper makin’ blasphemous sounds
Switchin’ sides like the tassel on the cap and the gown
I’m fully loaded, nigga, I can drop two classics right now
Outro
Hah, let me chill out, man (Conductor)
The Fall Off on the way, nigga
