Lil Dicky


[Verse 1 : J Cole]
f*ck it, aye
Do or Die, new arrival
Holla at my n*ggas
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 n*ggas gobble di*k, chew and swallow
Your girl told me shoot in her face, she suicidal
Oh shucks, you n*ggas is closed, you fold up
I'm from the Ville, n*ggas get killed over four bucks
Thank God we made it, my n*ggas, we grown up
Now we crazy over that bread, call us the "dough-nuts" uh
More sl*ts 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 n*ggas 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 n*gga, get a bonus
You kill a n*gga, get promoted
sh*t is crazy, girls getting babies before they get diplomas
So much I just go nuts
n*ggas telling me

[Verse 2: Lil di*ky]
I'm too nice
Like a lil youngin that fell in love with a boo twice
As in double as f*ckable 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 f*ck him
And someone tell him, “Listen, you buggin'
She never f*cking 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, sh*t it's all a hobby
It's two bad b*tches 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 f*ck sh*t

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

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