conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Be (Freestyle) with the following description: Off J.Coles weekly mixtape series “Any Given Sunday.” This is song three of Vol. 2.
  This is J. Cole’s freestyle over Common’s title-song of his critically acclaimed album “Be.”
  J. Cole touches upon the same subjects as usual, but who is to complain? Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Verse]
  Cole world,
   cold blooded
  Trapping niggas at my shows and them hoes love it
  Backpacking niggas with the afros love it
  So don't holla at a nigga if you got no budget
  Trying to get my braid up, nope not talking cornrows
  Trying to get my grade up, oh, look how my score rose
  Playing Jigga hits he say good, make more those
  Cole got delivery bitch, you got digiornos
  They fucking with me because I'm real as shit
  Well if you feel this shit, here goes some realer shit
  I signed a big deal and went to the dealership
  Man they took one look at my credit and said forget it
  Now I'm in this train with a mil to my name
  Ain't shit changed because I still feel the pain
  Like a gym or a rim dog, I'm built for the game
  Something like a pimp because I'm still with the 'caine
  Unh, a little drug dealer reference what, I can't try
  These niggas out here lying, why can't I
  Flashbacks where my teacher told me I can't fly
  Then he looked at nigga crazy because I say why
  Now look, no wings but I'm flier than the birds
  Co-signer on a beamer, but it's whiter than the burbs
  Something like a genius, but man I've done been a nerd
  Just to tutor bad bitches while admiring the curves
  That might have been a noun, that might have been a verb
  But I'm just trying to find what you hiding in that skirt
  Hey Cole got her coming now he might've been the first
  So she only fuck with hymn/him like a choir in a church
  Good God, momma told him get a good job
  Be a doctor or a lawyer, if you're black they won't employ ya'
  Well nigga I'mma show ya', this that Jesse Jackson
  Af-firmative action so master I'm taxing uh
  Don't let the cover fool ya', bitch I ain't no freshman
  In my own class man, I write my own passes
  I hear the shots fired, yeah I see the stones casted
  My shit is already fire, don't gas it
  Niggas hear my album say sound like a classic
  Niggas say your album might not even see the plastic
  Bastard, how you gonna match with a nigga
  Who done mastered the shit you practice
  Catch this, a Ville nigga 'til the day of my casket
  Put on for my city like my favorite jacket
  Man you gonna wear that every god damn night
  Know what I paid for this shit? bitch, you got damn right!