| Book the rubber from wake and bake
|
| And where you share your take-home facts
|
| You want to burst the fall, when you burst the bubble
|
| On your favorite air max
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| Smoke that gets a lot in your blind eyes
|
| When you go to damn
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| I’m the art-block in your mind’s eye
|
| Ten toes and no plan
|
| I’m running so late that I may as well take time
|
| You don’t get your nickels in a twist
|
| When you’re making dollars and dimes
|
| In the dungeon so much, lately
|
| I’d say I’m under the weather
|
| Hear the new honey on the water
|
| Give me something to attend for
|
| Months that begin on Sunday
|
| Months that begin on Sunday
|
| Life never stops coming
|
| All over your intentions
|
| You make the beds, and do dishes
|
| Six months later, do it again
|
| The reason that we have words
|
| Is never to say what we think
|
| The reason that we have words
|
| Is to cleverly vow what we think
|
| Food options not saying much
|
| There’s grey shades to this stew
|
| Too often, too late comes 'round
|
| It’s way, way too soon
|
| Two, two gold rolexes
|
| A day date, and a new one
|
| A new view of an old problem
|
| And a new hatred of an old dawn
|
| Months that begin on Sunday
|
| Months that begin on Sunday
|
| (On Sunday)
|
| Five AM, and I’m lurkin'
|
| Mum said that I’m a burden
|
| I ain’t been at home and I ain’t going out
|
| I’m steady trying to write these verses
|
| I know they want to see me where my hearse is
|
| Because I figured out my purpose
|
| So many lies in the churches and it hurts us
|
| But we still go and worship
|
| Phones all tryin' to find service
|
| In the strip, lookin' for a party
|
| 'Cause if life’s short I gotta live it
|
| Thought, I’d do anything but sniff charlie
|
| So Roc Boys don’t drip Bacardi
|
| My main be bad like Cardi
|
| Like Mike Skinner, I’m on the streets
|
| But I ain’t on anything nasty
|
| Oh wow
|
| Months that begin on Sunday
|
| Months that begin on Sunday
|
| Ships at a distance, can’t have
|
| Every man’s last wish on
|
| You only want it, before I get it
|
| And always after it’s gone
|
| Give me a bigger uh
|
| I’ll jakey your system up
|
| (Wisdom and rhythm, set) |