Sunday Dinner

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Kelvin Casca & Nary Da Producer

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Ya'll mess up the family can't you see that
Big mama wanted me to get everyone together for a Sunday dinner
But I didn't know how to do that
Because all ya'll do Is fight
So I lied
Lied about the money so you'll come
So we can be a family again
Getting ready for this Sunday dinner
Big mama in the kitchen
Daddy clean the fish got my mama frying chicken things that I remember
I tuck my shirt and it was bitter sweet
Bow our heads say a prayer lift the fork to eat
Drinking juice behind the greens that we ain't wanna eat
But you don't get no cake if you don't touch them greens
My uncles watch the game and root for different teams
Them Sundays was big
But now its all a dream
Yeah
Reminiscing bout them Sunday dinners
They was weekly thanksgivings
Cuz home from prison today
I know he missed it
See we don't judge him
I promise we never judged him
Big mama held you close so you would know she love you
Rest In Peace to uncle Morris
You was loud at every function
Loud I mean the lime green suit with the missing button
Then your brother died
See our family couldn't take demise
It really hurt to see my mama cry
I question god but he don't give rebuttals
Give us life just to take it from us
Im feeling torn like Latoya Luckett
Them Sunday dinners made my family function
Im grown now and I don't see the function
My son nine never been to a Church cuz I don't trust it
Don't do collection plates if I can't see the budget
Them Sunday dinners how we seen each other
Now we fight on social media won't see each other
A Sunday dinners how we feed the struggle
Yeah
Ya'll know that's what big mama wanted

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