Lyrics:
a hater then I let him sit out and
Air dry who needs a hanger?
Airport hours, Sunday to Sunday
Let them bitches fly out the yard
Call it a runway
Call me
the
First time I drove solo Lolo was in the hospital see by this
Time he got really sick the kiss of death left him a hicky but being the
Fighter he is went
in my arms started healing It's like they knew what I was feeling
The state gave me 18 months
But God gave me Horses
I've driven by a million times
quit fuckin' around
Nigga fire the blunt, ayy
For all of the time we were late on the rent at the first of the month, ay
It was PB&J all day and now
zip that, chop that, pass the blunt
Know my dick from last month but there's more to come, what the fuck?
Too, too fucking raw (face down, ass up)
traffic
Boy my blood be hotter than the month of May
I been tryna cool it, take it day by day
I gotta stick and zip up in the passenger
Crack it
Better
some bread in the passenger
Ask him why they look at her
The one hundred and seventy-one go by
Sent a text, snap back
Homie what happened, we said eight
look at my money, like it's not mitunkne yeah yeah
Homie I come from the street, live my life by the rules
If I owe ya I'm gon' get ya, might be ten
It's been a month of Sunday's since I laid eyes on you
Have you changed your ways or have you even tried to
I wish I could kill all this worry
Seven days then seven weeks now seven months
I ain't never cheated
I know u had a bitch i let you beat it
Pull it out go down and eat it
But i'm
I’m not a fan of Sunday
Bleak as the week
It’s on its way home
I’m not a fan of Sunday
One night a lunar month
I’m feeding from the love
A vampire
always working
The cheque isn’t always certain
I’ve gotta make sure by the time month end is lurking
I’ve got enough cash to work with
Like, oh shit
1941, almost a year since I was born
Spent two months and nine days in a hospital bed
The doctors gave me up, but Mama never would
She took
And I only rap on Sundays
I only rap on Sundays bro, it's the only time I got to rap
I don't do this rap shit bro
Yo 250 where you at Bring out baby
the cheat codes
If vibrations send me
I drive by on winning
Can't see inside, I'm tinting
She in the passenger, venting
Massey, unrelenting
I just found my
Damn
(pass her to me)
Roll down the window
I can't even breathe
Sunday to Sunday I'm still gettin' pleased
By the baddest lil' freaks
Or the prettiest
Don't try killing time 'cause time don't die
No matter how hard you try
Years, months, weeks days, count the minutes
Count the seconds, count
Airs (check)
Mean bucket (uh huh)
Armadale in the club, couple of duckets (yeah)
Couple chicks by my side, let's ride
All I need
That new coupe (got
Airs (check)
Mean bucket (uh huh)
Armadale in the club, couple of duckets (yeah)
Couple chicks by my side, let's ride
All I need
That new coupe (got
hit it in a day it took a couple months
Face down ass up like she a hoe or sum
But wen we steppin out in public get her anything
Nd by anything its
mirth you not
I'mma get shot for the words that I jot
If not, on the passenger side by the cops
If not, I'mma spend my life in a box
Y'all talk about it,
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
just missed your chance
To witness the realest shit that's ever been told to man
I found myself losing focus at a Sunday service
Embarrassed so I
Once we were old enough to complain and whine about Hindu-Stani ?Canna every Sunday night, we had popcorn and watched the Muppet Show in the living room.
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