# data[].attributes.body
Do you believe in me? Are you deceiving me?

Could I let you down easily, is your heart where it need to be?

Is your smile on permanent? Is your vow on lifetime?

Would you know where the sermon is if I died in this next line?

If I’m tried in a court of law, if the industry cut me off

If the government want me dead, plant cocaine in my car

Would you judge me a drug-head or see me as K. Lamar

Or question my character and degrade me on every blog

Want you to love me like Nelson, want you to hug me like Nelson

I freed you from being a slave in your mind, you’re very welcome

You tell me my song is more than a song, it’s surely a blessing

But a prophet ain’t a prophet til they ask you this question:

When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?

Do you believe in me? How much you believe in her?

You think she gon’ stick around if them 25 years occur?

You think he can hold you down when you down behind bars hurt?

You think y’all on common ground if you promise to be the first?Can you be immortalized without your life being expired?

Even though you share the same blood is it worth the time?

Like who got your best interest?

Like how much are you dependent?

How clutch are the people that say they love you?

And who pretending?

How tough is your skin when they turn you in?

Do you show forgiveness?

What brush do you bend when dusting your shoulders from being offended?

What kind of den did they put you in when the lions start hissing?

What kind of bridge did they burn?

Revenge or your mind when it’s mentioned?

You wanna love like Nelson, you wanna be like Nelson

You wanna walk in his shoes but you peacemaking seldom

You wanna be remembered that delivered the message

That considered the blessing of everyone

This your lesson for everyone, say

When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?

# data[].attributes.body
In this poem Kendrick is questioning the people he can trust, and if they are truly his friends.

He does this by asking the reader questions in the first person, rather than just talking about his problems or telling a story.

Kendrick brings up how he wants to be like "Nelson" multiple times. This is a reference to Nelson Mandela.

I enjoy Mortal Man because Kendrick is talking directly to the reader and the questions he has make you think.

# data[].attributes.body
I remember you was conflicted

Misusing your influence

Sometimes I did the same

Abusing my power, full of resentment

Resentment that turned into a deep depression

Found myself screaming in the hotel room

I didn’t wanna self destruct

The evils of Lucy was all around me

So I went running for answers

Until I came home

But that didn’t stop survivor’s guilt

Going back and forth trying to convince myself the stripes I earned

Or maybe how A-1 my foundation was

But while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city, I was entering a new one

A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination

Made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned

The word was respect

Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's

Doesn’t mean I can’t respect you as a black man

Forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets

If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us

But I don’t know, I’m no mortal man, maybe I’m just another nigga

# data[].attributes.body
I added this because it actually isn't a song, this is actually a poem written by Kendrick Lamar, and it reoccurs throughout his album To Pimp a Butterfly.

The poem is about Kendrick's journey out of the streets of Compton, California and how he had changed when he returned to his home.

"The evils of Lucy" is a reference to Lucifer, or the devil.

I like the serious mood of this poem and how genuine it feels, even at the end when Kendrick switches tones to "But I don't know, I'm no mortal man."

# data[].attributes.body
Ever since a young man

All I wanna be was a gunman

Shootin’ up the charts, better run, man

Y'all gotta see that I won, man

Slick as El DeBarge with the finger waves, work it, JT

Handle bars like a fade, watch me work it, JT

I'm at large, runnin’ plays like a circuit, JT

I'm sellin' verses, JT, watch me work it, JT

Look, look… hol' up!

Don't judge me! My mama caught me with a strap

Don't judge me! I was young, fuckin' all the rats

Don't judge me! Aimin’ at your head for a stack

Don’t judge! Don't judge me! Now my home got a Valley peak

Don’t judge me! If I press your line you a freak

Don't judge me! Won't you tell a friend? Y'all gon’ see—

Fuck is you talkin' to?

Ayy, do you know who you talkin' to?

Slide on you like fallen drapes

God toss full of carnivals

I kill 'em with kindness

Or I kill 'em with diamonds

Or I put up like fifteen hundred

Get yo' ass killed by the finest

Everything in life is a gamble

Nothin' in life I can't handle

Seen it all, done it all, felt pain more

For the cause, I done put blood on sword

Everything I do is to embrace y'all

Everything I write is a damn eight ball

Everything I touch is a damn gold mine

Everything I say is from an angel

# data[].attributes.body
God is more lighthearted than the previous two poems but still focuses on the theme of religion and talking to god.

The first verse starts with Kendrick talking to god for forgiveness, constantly repeating the phrase "Don't judge me!"

The second verse however switches to Kendrick becoming a god, at least in his mind.

I enjoy the repeating lines of "Don't judge me" and "Work it JT" (a line from the 1991 film The Five Heartbeats) because they give the poem rhythm. And the second verse shows how dangerous it can be for someone to compare themselves to a god.

# data[].attributes.body
Oh Lamar

Hail Mary and marijuana, times is hard

Pray with the hooligans, shadows all in the dark

Fellowship with demons and relatives, I'm a star

Life is one funny mothafucka

A true comedian, you gotta love him, you gotta trust him

I might be buggin', infomercials and no sleep

Introverted by my thoughts; children, listen, it gets deep

See, once upon a time inside the Nickerson Garden projects

The object was to process and digest poverty's dialect

Adaptation inevitable: gun violence, crack spot

Federal policies raid buildings and drug professionals

Anthony was the oldest of seven

Well-respected, calm and collected

Laughin' and jokin' made life easier; hard times, Momma on crack

A four-year-old tellin' his nanny he needed her

His family history: pimpin' and bangin'

He was meant to be dangerous

Clocked him a grip and start slangin'

Fifteen, scrapin' up his jeans with quarter pieces

Even got some head from a smoker last weekend

Dodged a policeman, workin' for his big homie

Small-time hustler, graduated to a brick on him

10,000 dollars out of a project housing, that's on the daily

Seen his first mil twenty years old, had a couple of babies

Had a couple of shooters

Caught a murder case, fingerprints on the gun they assumin'

But witnesses couldn't prove it

That was back when he turned his back and they killed his cousin

He beat the case and went back to hustlin'

Bird-shufflin', Anthony rang

The first in the projects with the two-tone Mustang

That 5.0 thing, they say 5-0 came

Circlin' parking lots and parking spots

And hoppin' out while harrassin' the corner blocks

Crooked cops told Anthony he should kick it

He brushed 'em off and walked back to the Kentucky Fried Chicken

See, at this chicken spot

There was a light-skinned nigga that talked a lot

With a curly top and a gap in his teeth

He worked the window, his name was Ducky

He came from the streets, the Robert Taylor Homes

Southside Projects, Chiraq, the Terror Dome

Drove to California with a woman on him and 500 dollars

They had a son, hopin' that he'd see college

Hustlin' on the side with a nine-to-five to freak it

Cadillac Seville, he'd ride his son around on weekends

Three-piece special with his name on the shirt pocket

'Cross the street from the projects, Anthony planned to rob it

Stuck up the place before, back in '84

That's when affiliation was really eight gears of war

So many relatives tellin' us, sellin' us devilish works

Killin' us, crime, intelligent, felonious

Prevalent proposition with 9's

Ducky was well-aware

They robbed the manager and shot a customer last year

He figured he'd get on these niggas' good sides

Free chicken every time Anthony posted in line

Two extra biscuits, Anthony liked him and then let him slide

They didn't kill him; in fact, it look like they're the last to survive

Pay attention, that one decision changed both of they lives

One curse at a time

Reverse the manifest and good karma, and I'll tell you why

You take two strangers and put 'em in random predicaments

Give 'em a soul so they can make their own choices and live with it

Twenty years later, them same strangers, you make 'em meet again

Inside recording studios where they reapin' their benefits

Then you start remindin' them about that chicken incident

Whoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence?

Because if Anthony killed Ducky, Top Dawg could be servin' life

While I grew up without a father and die in a gunfight.

# data[].attributes.body
Duckworth is a ballad named after Kendrick Lamar's actual name, being Kendrick Lamar Duckworth.

Duckworth tells the story of "Anthony" the founder of Top Dawg Entertainment (The music label Kendrick is signed to) and how Anthony coincidentally crossed paths with "Ducky" Kendrick's father, 20 years before Kendrick would sign to TDE.

That's pretty much it for Duckworth, it can be hard to read without the music but I included it because it is a ballad and it tells and interesting true story.

# data[].attributes.body
Hell-raising, wheel-chasing, new worldy possessions

Flesh-making, spirit-breaking, which one would you lessen?

The better part, the human heart, you love ’em or dissect 'em

Happiness or flashiness? How do you serve the question?

See, in a perfect world, I would be perfect, world

I don't trust people enough beyond they surface, world

I don't love people enough to put my faith in man

I put my faith in these lyrics, hoping I make a band

I understand I ain't perfect, I probably won't come around

This time I might put you down

Last time I ain't give a fuck, I still feel the same now

My feelings might go numb, you're dealing with cold thumb

I’m willing to give up a leg and arm than show empathy from

Pity parties and functions of you and yours

A perfect world, you probably live another 24

I can’t fake humble just 'cause your ass is insecure

I can’t fake humble just 'cause your ass is insecure

Now, in a perfect world, I probably won't be insensitive

Cold as December but never remember what winter did

I wouldn't blame you for mistakes I made or the bed I laid

Seems like I point the finger just to make a point nowadays

Smiles and cold stares, the temperature goes there

Indigenous disposition, feel like we belong here

I know the walls, they can listen, I wish they could talk back

The hurt becomes repetition, the love almost lost that

Sick venom in men and women overcome with pride

A perfect world is never perfect, only filled with lies

Promises are broken and more resentment come alive

Race barriers make inferior you and I

See, in a perfect world, I'll choose faith over riches

I'll choose work over bitches, I'll make schools out of prison

I'll take all the religions and put 'em all in one service

Just to tell 'em we ain't shit, but He's been perfect, world

# data[].attributes.body
Another first person perspective poem from Kendrick, Pride constantly brings up a "perfect world."

In the second verse, the "perfect world" becomes sort of a false prophet, as a "perfect world is never perfect, only filled with lies" and the rest of the verse follows this theme.

The last lines "I'll take all the religions and put em all in one service, just to tell em we ain't shit but he's been perfect world."
I think these lines are about the insignificance of humans in religions like christianity and the significance of a "perfect" god.

# data[].attributes.body
I feel like a chip on my shoulders

I feel like I'm losin' my focus

I feel like I'm losin' my patience

I feel like my thoughts in the basement

Feel like, I feel like you're miseducated

Feel like I don't wanna be bothered

I feel like you may be the problem

I feel like it ain't no tomorrow, fuck the world

The world is endin', I'm done pretendin'

And fuck you if you get offended

I feel like friends been overrated

I feel like the family been fakin'

I feel like the feelings are changin'

Feel like my thought of compromise is jaded

Feel like you wanna scrutinize how I made it

Feel like I ain't feelin' you all

Feel like removin' myself, no feelings involved

I feel for you, I've been in the field for you

It's real for you, right? Shit, I feel like—

I feel niggas been out of pocket

I feel niggas tappin' they pockets

I feel like debatin' on who the greatest can stop it

I am legend, I feel like all of y'all is peasants

I feel like all of y'all is desperate

I feel like all it take is a second to feel like

Mike Jordan whenever holdin' a real mic

I ain't feelin' your presence

Feel like I'ma learn you a lesson

Feel like only me and the music though

I feel like your feelin' ain't mutual

I feel like the enemy you should know

Feel like the feelin' of no hope

The feelin' of bad dope

A quarter ounce manipulated from soap

The feelin', the feelin' of false freedom

I'll force-feed 'em the poison that fill 'em up in the prison

I feel like it's just me

Look, I feel like I can't breathe

Look, I feel like I can't sleep

Look, I feel heartless, often off this

Feelin' of fallin', of fallin' apart with

Darkest hours, lost it

Fillin' the void of bein' employed with ballin'

Streets is talkin', fill in the blanks with coffins

Fill up the banks with dollars

Fill up the graves with fathers

Fill up the babies with bullshit

Internet blogs and pulpit, fill 'em with gossip

I feel like this gotta be the feelin' where 'Pac was

The feelin' of an apocalypse happenin'

But nothin' is awkward, the feelin' won't prosper

The feelin' is toxic, I feel like I'm boxin' demons

Monsters, false prophets schemin'

Sponsors, industry promises

Niggas, bitches, honkies, crackers, Compton

Church, religion, token blacks in bondage

Lawsuit visits, subpoena served in concert

Fuck your feelings, I mean this for imposters

I can feel it, the phoenix sure to watch us

I can feel it, the dream is more than process

I can put a regime that forms a Loch Ness

I can feel it, the scream that haunts our logic

I feel like say somethin', I feel like take somethin'

I feel like skatin' off, I feel like waitin' for 'em

Maybe it's too late for 'em

I feel like the whole world want me to pray for 'em

But who the fuck prayin' for me?

# data[].attributes.body
In Feel Kendrick talks about what he's feeling, repeating every line by starting with "I feel."

Like a few other of Kendrick's works, the tone of Feel slowly rises throughout the poem. For example he starts out with "I feel like a chip on my soldiers" and this escalates to "This feeling is toxic, I feel like I'm boxing out demons, monsters, false prophets scheming...." and continues on a rant.

I think Feel is another good example of how personal Kendrick gets in his writing.

# data[].attributes.body
Look inside these walls and you see I'm havin' withdrawals

Of a prisoner on his way

Trapped inside your desire to fire bullets that stray

Track attire just tell you I'm tired and ran away

I should ask a choir: "What do you require

To sing a song that acquire me to have faith?"

As the record spin I should pray

For the record, I recognize that I'm easily prey

I got ate alive yesterday

I got animosity buildin', it's prob'ly big as a buildin'

Me jumpin' off of the roof is me just playin' it safe

But what am I 'posed to do when the topic is red or blue

And you understand that I ain't

But know I'm accustomed to just a couple that look for trouble

And live in the street with rank

No better picture to paint than me walkin' from bible study

And called his homies because he had said he noticed my face

From a function that tooken place, they was wonderin' if I bang

Step on my neck and get blood on your Nike checks

I don't mind 'cause one day you'll respect

The good kid, m.A.A.d city

All I see is strobe lights, blindin' me in my hindsight

Findin' me by myself, promise me you can help

In all honesty I got time to be copacetic until

You had finally made decision to hold me against my will

It was like a head on collision that folded me standing still

I can never pick out the difference and grade a cop on the bill

Every time you clock in the morning, I feel you just want to kill

All my innocence while ignorin' my purpose to persevere

As a better person; I know you heard this and probably in fear

But what am I 'posed to do when the blinkin' of red and blue

Flash from the top of your roof and your dog has to say woof

And you ask: "Lift up your shirt," because you wonder if a tattoo

Of affiliation can make it a pleasure to put me through

Gang files, but that don't matter because the matter is racial profile

I heard 'em chatter: "He's prob'ly young, but I know that he's down"

Step on his neck as hard as your bullet-proof vest

He don't mind, he know we'll never respect

The good kid, m.A.A.d. city."

# data[].attributes.body
Good Kid is the first part of "Good Kid m.A.A.d. City" mentioned at the end of both verses. It is about a good kid, being changed by the environment that he's being raised in. It's unclear if Kendrick is talking about himself or not, but it his probable since he grew up in Compton, California.

The last section of each verse "but what am I 'posed to do when the topic is red or blue" and the following is about police brutality in the African American neighborhoods of the US.

Once again this is written in the first person.

# data[].attributes.body
I promise that I know you very well

Your eyes never lie, even if they tell

Sweet lullabies that come with a smell

Of a dozen roses flipping down the green hill

You're living in a world that come with plan B

Cause plan A never relay a guarantee

And plan C never could say just what it was

And your plans only can pan around love

You love him, you love them, you love her

You love so much, you love when love hurts

You love red bottom and gold that say "Queen"

You love hand-bag on the waist of your jean

You love French tip and trip that pay for

You love bank slip that tell you we paid more

You love a good hand whenever the card dealt

But what love got to do with it when you don't love yourself?

I promise that I know you very well

Your eyes never lie, even if they fell

Out the sky and your optics turn stale

Where they mold that's green, I can see you fit the bill

Of living in a world that come with plan B

Cause plan A only can make another mistake

And you can't see success coming from plan C

When it all breaks, you'll still say you're lovely

And love them and love when you love her

You love so much, you love when love hurts

You love fast cars and dead presidents old

You love fast women, you love keepin' control

Of everything that you love, you love beef

You love streets, you love running, ducking police

You love your hood, might even love it to death

But what love got to do with it when you don't love yourself?

The reason why I know you very well

Cause we have the same eyes, can't you tell?

The days I tried to cover up and conceal

My pride, it only made it harder for me to deal

When living in a world that come with plan B

A scapegoat cause plan A don't come free

And plan C just an excuse like "because"

Or the word "but," but what if I got love?

I love them, I love when I love her

I love so much, I love when love hurts

I love first verse ’cause you're the girl I attract

I love second verse ’cause you're the homie that pack

Burner like a stove top, that love cooking from scratch

I love what the both of you have to offer

In fact, I love it so much, I don't love anything else

But what love got to do with it when I don't love myself

To the point I should hate everything I do love?

Should I hate living my life inside the club?

Should I hate her for watching me for that reason?

Should I hate him for telling me that I'm seizin'?

Should I hate them for telling me "ball out"?

Should I hate street credibility I'm talkin' about

Hating all money, power, respect in my will

Or hating the fact none of that shit make me real?

# data[].attributes.body
Real is about the idea of love, and more specifically loving things, and questions what you can love if you don't love yourself.

Kendrick puts "You love" at the beginning of most of the lines which gives a rhythmic repeating aspect to the poem.

I like the imagery of the things that "you love." Such as "You love the red bottom and gold that say Queen" and "You love fast cars and dead presidents old." I also like the end when he talks to the reader as if he wrote this with a specific person in mind.