Sunday

Always wanna talk but you never want the smoke. You flashing all the guns on your live, You a joke. You be posting up a bunch When you never ever roll. Probably press a button shooter who be lacking in The soul. Grabbing bunch of guns, Loading a hundred in my 360. Splitting in the night, they'll never be aware of Else we're 60. Hopping out my house, in the bushes, they can't See us. We just sneaking through the grass like A spider with its cheesy. We in the city and the dirt 60 bird. If the bills on the tab, then I think You know the word. Always be in the ledge And the goals so I turn. Everybody in the area ain't messing with the herd. Fuss with the fade, they never wanna trade. They talking up on the squad but they still Gon' re-up paid. I'm waiting till this day when they gon' get A brain. They need to understand that we winning In the game.