Sunday Service

Ya it's just me and Max B
You know from the suburbs and shit
Ya look ya
From the dust you was made
And to dust you'll return
Talkin bouta pocket rocket for her hotty pocket
Lil polly pocket
Possy prodda prolly pop up on it
Gate is narrow baby you can't eat with the King
Gotta lunch witta'able
Neva sit with a fene
No no interest in you
Years of sunday school i'm learning tales with the veggies baby
Ya ya tales witta fuckin veggies lately

And i'm Seein my sins
Is why im stretchin my hands
An Skyline wit the oyster cracker cus its chili outside
Why don't I give you a ride
One day yeah you can be mine
An the rhythm her legs walkin her thighs talkin
Da biscuit the side

And turn em solid to stone
Ya medusa his bones
Im writing this shit alone stoned stoned
And kidziz thinking he's grown

Wrong an goatziz his pride
Evil lurking steal patience an all these humans want more
Fall short and show em the
Rain where it pours
I strut and splash in the puddles

The voices muffled the distance
So he put death on his wishlist
They busy plottin his sentence
fo what fo lovin his friends
Barabbas no I want Him
Dis why I stay in the word
I want the word not the world
I'm really down in the rut
So go an spark em a blunt
I'm really chillin with death
So go and take em a breathe
Im getting glimpses of heaven
Without sum heady lil reverend
The holy water that's 7
The 7 tribes is alive
I trust my guide he is God
I know He number the stars
I know He's loving my heart
Can't truss these sphynx's like Pharaoh
Pleadin go cop more dinero
Leaders put blanket on statements
Be steady raking them opps
I guess ill run it alone
So get the fuck out my phone
We finna die in a minute
But life ain't done till its finished
So rock to fakie I kick it
The sequence fumble da package
Big tech is blockin my habits
The raven rabbidy rabits ra ra

I rip it I rip the peel off like cutie
She gotta peach lookin booty
I reel and cast fo da fish
These sharks will lurk in abyss
So hold the truth its yo friend
No given blood in the clin
He master chief's son like halos
You lil grunts inna tangle
My life i'm living for ransom
My momma think that i'm handsome
They nod their heads to my anthem
I stole your cookies throw tantrum
I took yo cookie throw tantrum
I ate yo cookie throw tantrum
I ate that shit ate that shit
I fucking ate yo cookies bitch

From the dust you was made
And to dust you'll return
Talkin bouta pocket rocket for her hotty pocket
Lil polly pocket
Possy prodda prolly pop up on it
Gate is narrow baby you can't eat with the King
Gotta lunch witta'able
Neva sit with a fene
No no interest in you
Years of sunday school i'm learning tales with the veggies baby
Ya ya tales witta fuckin veggies lately

Yeah yeah
Yeah
Yeah yeah
What i'm talkin bout
What i'm talkin bout
Yeah yeah
Get up get up get up get up girl
Get up get up get up get up girl



Credits
Writer(s): Samuel Collier
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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