Typecast

Yeah

Just been all about expansion

You know they hate when I talk like this

Aye, I got pimpin' in my blood

Got my main girl in the tub, all she wearing is some suds

I done bossed up to the point that all I care about is love

Turned the family all execs, no such thing as rich enough

Too Real Under Sean's Teachings, acronym for "trust"

Initials in the sheets, got my logo in the rug

Built-in alarm clock, ain't gotta tell me to get up

When I walk in the arena, I feel like I'm Jerry Buss (Bust it)

And we shut down Coachella, they thought it was Harry Styles

Except the skin the same color as a Black & Mild

Meditating, blacking out, J. Cole, a middle child

But you know I get my ****in' way, like a only child

Downtown pimpin', city-slickin', rockin' crocodile

Yeah, they tryna pipe me down, bitch, you gotta wipe me down

Could tell from my handwriting, I got signature style

I should write a ****in' book on how to get it off the mile

They used to look right pass me (Swerve)

**** can't even catch up to the past me

She just wanna love me down and harass me

They want me to play my role, but you can't typecast me (Bitch)

Yeah (Typecast me)

Making sure my son straight

Making sure my girl straight

Making sure the fam straight, then I could die happy

They want me to play the role, but you can't typecast me (Bitch)

Yup, multi-million dollars salaries for all of my legalities

And we coming black tux when we movin' casually

Could build a damn positive affirmation gallery

Passing plays to my **** so the income is passive

My genre isn't rap anymore, it's under classics

Look, I knew back on Griswold

When ain't nobody had my back 'cause it was against the wall

And Waun got hit with that fed case

And he was livin' through me for that decade to balance his head space

Man, first thing I think about boarding a jet

Is how my mom and dad was flight attendants, that's how they met

No wonder why my head's in the clouds, it make sense

Every day I wake up I'm one day closer to death

So what you gon' do with the time you got left?

Ball on these pussies, damn, look at my neck

I used to sell CD's outside of my history class

What a foreshadow that was when I'm lookin' back

From the Blog Era, had to get through the tabloids

Just like MJ, had to get through the bad boys

My son first Christmas, he finna have mad toys

I prolly get his ass a S Class if he ask for it

But he gotta learn the hard way, life's a crash course

And stick to the task while dodgin' the task force (Of course)

And they used to look right pass me (Swerve)

**** can't even catch up to the past me (Swerve)

She just wanna love me down and harass me

They want me to play my role, but you can't typecast me

Bitch

Making sure my son straight

Making sure my girl straight

Making sure the fam straight, then I could die happy

They want me to play the role, but you can't typecast me (Bitch)

They used to look right pass me

Ain't want to do right by me

**** it, alright by me (**** it)

Said I couldn't do this and couldn't do that

But **** can't typecast me

**** can't typecast me

**** can't typecast me

**** it

Better me than you

Shit, I gotta see it through