Writing Poems on Sunday

Writing poems on Sunday
In NYC on the broadway
Brains up high
But my soul needs a mayday
So I made a soulful album
For my heyday
Really I just need to sit back and pray pray
So I can thank God for the ability to say say
Thank you for palm trees and parkways
Things that I grew up on that helped me through hard days
Yeah
That helped me find my purpose
To help people that are afraid
To say there hurting
This for all the people out there
Flirting with death
I rap so many verses I'm hurting inside my chest
See one nude then I scroll to the next
So I asked myself is it tits or success
What is wrong with myself Im feeling so depressed
But there ain't nothing wrong
But there ain't nothing wrong

Maybe it's because I'm so stuck in my phone
Maybe it's because I'm so stuck in my phone
Maybe it's because I'm so stuck in my phone
Maybe it's because I'm so stuck in my phone

I've pushed myself to the limit
Then panic sets in
I dibble dabble a little in it
Everybody ask for me
I told them just give me a minute
But every time I call it seems nobody's got a minute
(Hello dude answer the phone)
Much less a second much less a second
People be judge mental but ask for help every second
Or ask for a cheat
For every step of this journey
And that bothers me a lot
Rappers just want money
But they don't to jot
They thoughts on a paper
For people to cut down there ink spot
Just like a taper
Make one song for the clubs Then disappear like some vapor
Then like starts do they burnout later
But I want to be the sun a legacy that last forever
It don't matter where you come from it don't matter your endeavor
It matter your effort
Cuz nobody works as hard as I do
Here take a song that you can vibe to



Credits
Writer(s): Caleb Mccleney
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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