Lyrics:
glorafilia says, she says
It's just another Sunday afternoon
And glorafilia says, she says there ain't no point in loving you
She keeps me wrapped around
on a juice box
It's always sunny don't need a raincoat
Just roll the blunt with drizzled honey
Need some mango and let the pain go
It's Sunday afternoon and I
between small-towners
Fall down as quick as you stand
Dehydration, hallucination, sicker than
A sick man licking his hand
React to the cricks in the thick
On a Sunday afternoon
While her daddy shouts that good news
Under the steeple
She's learning his to fill
Watching her blood rise as it fills
I'm that boy eating by myself, nigga I got hungry
Yeah, we got this bitch jumping like a bungee
Fucking up the club on Sunday
I got hoes from out
Poor Billy received his new on a Sunday
Woken by his mother and she had just this to say
My son please return to me safe and ok you only turned
18
people
I could get a driver's license, drive you around to see things
And out on the country, we'd be real nice to each other
I wouldn't scream and yell
starts
But that Sunday when I left you was the end of the ride, and
Chorus:
There was never a day when thoughts of you passed me by
There was never an hour
hell, celebratin our senior year
we had a trash bag full of cloths and a suitcase full of beers
We got pulled over by the Alabama state patrol
But they
caldo)
Am o cariera in porbagaj, nu vorbesc cu garda
Prima solo ragazzini in strada, a casa n'ce tornavo
Chiedi a chi cercava neve, dovrei esse chiaro è
to get clout
Figured out who I was from a young age
Big dreams of my team on the front page
Skateboard on my feet in the sunrays
On a Sunday doing tre’s
non mio
Di certo non italiano tu dimmi chi cazzo sei zio
Y'all aint nothing but wack and phony
If you don't know me by now i doubt y'all ever know me
And you playing with that radio dial
Nothing too serious
Just laughing on a Sunday ride
Till I caught you looking at me
And I looked in your eyes
Fun, fun, think about fun
You know what it is
I got this, you got this
My friend is by my right, aye
I got this, you got this
Now you know it
o'clock on sunday the buses arrived,
A fleet of a thousand or more,
We were ordered to be on our way,
Not knowing what lay in store ,
Some of our citizens
feel so distant
I'll be right there in an instant
To hold your hard
Cause I'll be waiting there
I'll be waiting there
'Til I see you again
you least expect it
Through the chimney he’ll come down
The slays don’t make no sound and the
reindeer taking Santa around
The elf’s are making toys
every day like it's a Sunday
I would hit my friends, like, want to match
Yeah, I'm at the crib, you want to come through with a bag
We could shoot
There's a for-sale sign on a big ol rusty tractor
You can't miss it it's the first thing that you see
Just up the road a pale blue water tower
There's a woman in new orleans
Said to love me she was born
But that was Friday payday
By Sunday she was gone
So I drove on down to texas
Where I did
flowerbeds made
And this year, voted best
But that only tells one half acre of the story
What you see ain't what you get
Behind that private picket fence
and crippled bitches
Look at my scalp real close and you'll see triple sixes
There's no doubt I'm all about a dollar
I just signed a lifetime contract with
woah, oh, oh
Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh
I used to be an altar boy
And every Sunday I'd go to church
And I'd get beat up by a kid named Corey Shields
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