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Mortal

by J Cole, Tyler The Creator, Lil Dicky

[Verse 1 : J Cole]
Fuck it, aye
Do or Die, new arrival
Holla at my niggas
You survive you's alive, yo
Now either you follow me and ride, or you's a rival
The difference between you and I is you a model, you posing
But who am I though?
The mulatto out for that lotto
Money coming soon, the newest model
Your crew is hollow
The type of niggas gobble dick, chew and swallow
Your girl told me shoot in her face, she suicidal
Oh shucks, you niggas is closed, you fold up
I'm from the Ville, niggas get killed over four bucks
Thank God we made it, my niggas, we grown up
Now we crazy over that bread, call us the "dough-nuts" uh
More sluts once the money blows up
But them hoes stop if the dough drops
I won't stop though, a chip off the ole' block
I'm from a city where niggas hold blocks
Leave you looking like old socks, damn
Cops patrol blocks, spotting on us
The boys is rotten, I know they want us
Probably arrest a nigga, get a bonus
You kill a nigga, get promoted
Shit is crazy, girls getting babies before they get diplomas
So much I just go nuts
Niggas telling me

[Verse 2: Lil Dicky]
I'm too nice
Like a lil youngin that fell in love with a boo twice
As in double as fuckable as he was
And dude tries to be subtle and get her cuddling
Venting her troubles and getting her truffles
And ending up befuddled when she don't fuck him
And someone tell him, “Listen, you buggin'
She never fucking a pedestrian muggle like you
So why all the trouble?”, but he rebuttal with
“I think I just love her so I would shudder at the thought of being anything other than nice”
Heat bang like I caught a body
It wasn't even deep dang, shit it's all a hobby
It's two bad bitches sleeping on me, threesome
Cause everybody want to help but he don't need none
I'm all time like the wall at the bank
You no shot like you drawing a blank
Honestly you probably couldn't hang man
I been drawing it blank
Giving you lines while you sitting there and drawing a blank
So go on and rank
Chillin' like it's dough in the bank
Flowing danker than a grower in Napa
Growing the stankest cannabis
Go on, rapping poet, smacking the hoe-st rappers
Who showing the total package
Like my flaccid is growing fat as samoan cracker
Rapper, I'm about to keep going
Yeah the rapping's a wrap
I know you rappers napping don't know it
This a dagger, the pitter patter tapping on the window
Is a real accurate metaphor of what you have in the store
And I be snapping
The splashing on the pane be your rain
Falling quicker than Aladdin for his dame
Oh you better than me?
I'm not one for fuck shit

[Verse 3 : Tyler The Creator]
Bad ass bitch
Big ass titties man
Got fucking AKs the size of a fucking mini van
(Wooo)
Listen
Ya'll niggas got problems then ya'll do it
So much fucking money in my pocket
I fucking walk stoooopidd
Hold up
Bad bitch look good in some nice pants
Bet my bitch look good in some nice pants
Niggas see me they be "shit got damn , AK-47 tucked in that nigga nice pants!!"
Hold on
Ya'll got a little nigga started on some G-Shit
"Who that nigga that looked swagged out?"
THATS ME BITCH !
Don't play with a nigga money or it's fucking family
I got goon niggas named Jonathan and one named Tammy
Ya'll niggas got a fucking problem say it to my fucking face
Got lil' niggas that'll sock you in the fucking face
And if you think that they won't sock you in your fucking face
Aye you a BI-ahhhhh !! pop you right in your fucking face