Kendrick Lamar

Double XL

And I never came down from the last time

But that don't mean nothing, niggas still

climbing

Bitches popping bottles and they sipping pink

diamonds

I took a break from the game and I seen these

niggas clowning

The blogs wouldn't be the same if you took

Spitta out it

Props to the ones who instrumentally getting me

popping
Balling without first learning the fundamentals,
forget about it
Tryna 360 up the middle, you ain't even learn to
dribble
Twiddling my thumbs smoking lime

Watching hamster ass rappers running wheels

going nowhere with their rhymes
Stuck, Glenn Robinson big dog bus, socks up, top
down, killing squares, riding around
Coolest nigga in yo city, even when I'm not in

town

Smoking like I signed for 50 million and I'm

underground

Yeah, uh

Smoking like I signed for 50 million still

underground

And who we are, flow away above all, see
If I didn't rap I still look like a star, just admit, you
know
You can spot me from afar, no big diamond chain
that was so old for
Just a mention going up, it's nothing that I fire
Put the ladies sleeping over, slumber parties
every night
Get your flights from … sending me all over
Bring me to the club, cause all the bitches like
What other rapper you know can call from
Dakota, anger ...and call from a favor
And Brooklyn and Queens cause they got I'm a
king
Avoiding tattoos, ...take the music …
My kicks so is fresh no scuffs from the ground,
this nigger's too fly, can't get scuffs from the
clouds
This ain't even my city but shit might as well,
that's why me and spitta sold out ATL

Jet setter, I've been iller, causing vendettas with
all of you Ben Stillers
These little fuckers hate my endeavors, time for
men sweaters under chinchillas
Trend setter, kick killer my feet wear caskets

Fresh to death and rare glasses, the bomb
bottles, rose petals and Ford models

swallow
DM me, got him in the frenzy, it's all about the
benjies
I'm feeling like the kembe, block haters stop

player I'm so clean
My pockets love the earth baby they go green
Sitting back in that cold thing, wanna rock the
mic but she don't sing
Messing with the flow king, kiss the gold ring,
pucker up buttercup, or knuckle up to these
punch lines that uppercut

Chillin in my teepee, no indian but he be
The realest shit I must admit I'm baskin in my
feces
My style is harder, yours is watered down they

call it fiji

The bible or my CD, both of them were said to be

the

Formula to live your life, or coping with the ills
No time to play kid, I think you needs to chill
House party with killers, pray for Italy villas
Where accents think it's Buffy and chandeliers
hang from ceilings
I'm dreaming, I'm scheming to be major

Compose art like a Mozart, the sequel to

Amadeus, today is

The day I see the sun, ignoring all the rain

The fat lady has sung, octaves as high as

planes
Paper bout the forest tree, acres of that THC
I don't smoke but homies do, find the cloud and

have a seat
And I wonder how ... live to see 80
I just wanna see Mercedes give me head in

Mercedes
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