Sunday

Lyrics

[Intro] What's fly America? 3's up [Verse] Say she love me but she not for real Save that talk for Dr. Phil You gotta chill I'm on my grind we got a lot to build Pride of steel My people rose from them cotton fields Five or better for a show And that's without a deal Still, I'm all about progression Ain't even made Freshman But I'm callin' out the veterans Hit the booth and start dogging out the sessions I don't call my fans' haters they just yawnin' out of preference Notice things that they don't get to see While you calling her queen she trying to get to me She got the sticky-sweet I call her Rice Krispie Treat I think I met her out in Boston at the Middle East Livin' a lie so we straight wildin' My homies throwing up the 3's like Ray Allen The cake palace so you know a nigga stay smilin' But I'll snatch you out the game if you play lousy (nigga) If you ain't first then you last Stop flirtin' with trash, she just thirstin' for cash Sundays I would sit in church with a pad That's why I rap like a god on every verse that I smash Just ask, I don't believe in giving up 'Till every human being can eat, I ain't did enough (I ain't did enough) You say you do it big, I'm on some bigger stuff By the way I see it, you ain't doin' much It's Battles