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Part 1: Sunday's Best
[Verse 1]
Ayo, rise in the AM â early morning laying, I just wanna stay in
I just wanna lay in â pops like âget your ass up, stop the fakingâ
âWe already late, and ..â
Sunday morning waking, faking like my stomachâs aching
Moms pull out clothes just for Sundayâs best occasion
Bowtie, no lie, church shoes was aching
80-degree weather in a blazer, body blazing
Already canât wait until this day end
Just a little nigga that would rather be home video-gaming
Now we on our way in - deacon speaking
Preacher preaching to that congregation, mason (mason...mason)
Minds wandering off, not hearing that man of the cloth
Talk about that man on the cross
Now we back to praying
Old ladies with church fans screaming out ''amen''
Looking at that painting on the stained glass
Watching while that collection plate pass
Tithes, offering, to me itâs all the same cash
Fast forward, got older â a younging thatâs gone bad
Let me rephrase that, a younging that went down that wrong path
No matter how religious moms or pops was
Still had encounters with the cops (I was young)
Product of that environment I was in
Once I left that front door, I could have been out of here
Bullets flying is the norm, so most kids walk without a fear
Friends dying is the norm, so they walk without a tear
Rather tat it on their face - to whoâs? Wait
While the old head is yellinâ âitâs never too lateâ
[Bridge]
Too late, too late, too late, too late
Too late, too late, too late, too late
Too late, too late, too late, too late
Too late, too late, too late, too late
Too late, too late, too late, too late
Too late, too late, too late, too late
Part 2: Monday's Worst
[Hook]
Itâs never too late to get your values straight
Can you believe me, baby?
Itâs never too late to get your values straight (no, no)
Do you believe me?
[Verse 2]
Heater on the dresser, stomach growling
Iâm thinkinâ âhow can I make some dollars within the hours?â
Itâs funny how them hunger pain to your rib can
Turn a decent kid to doing a bid
Over stick-ups, nothing come, so screw the consequences
Iâll throw this black hoodie on, walk into this kitchen
Grab my keys and my phone, call my mans to see if heâs with it
But he didnât pick up, I guess Iâm on a solo mission
Times hard, my God, I canât even lie
A 9-5 is not what Iâm tryna do to survive
Iâm thinking while on the hunt
Somebody âbout to stumble out of this club drunk
Without having that chain tucked
âBout to get that fucking chain took, nigga
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Yeah - in the club, chain hanging, swinging, wow
Baby moms is sending texts and sending threats like
âWhere those payments?â
On some deadbeat dad shit, I hate you in the worst way
Spend money on rozay, instead of your sonâs birthday
Mad quick, I told her âhold up, hold up, be there tomorrowâ
Then went back up to the bar to get another glass and a bottle
Okay, canât let her ruin my high tonight, not alright
Plus I pulled this chick
With every sip sheâs looking more and more like the model type
Ayo, lets leave, I take her, reach for my keys
Iâm stumbling out the door looking for my car on the street
âTil I see this black-hood wearning, staring nigga tryna stick up
Shots go off, I fell victim, damn...
It's too late
[Hook]
- Album:
- Glitches in the Break
- Synth or Soul
- No Poison, No Paradise
- Random Axe
- Miscellaneous
- Brain (Single)
- Tronic
- Ultrawide
- Album Of The Year
- For 4Ever
- Third Man Live: 4 - 8 - 2011
- Beauty in Darkness, Volume 7
- VISIONS: All Areas, Volume 6
- Alternative Moments V
- Viva Hits 23
- Schattenreich, Volume 1
- Bravo Hits 44
- Crossing All Over! Volume 16
- Popular Demand Instrumentals / Broken Wax Instrumentals
- Popular Demand