Sunday Chill Intro

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Tirasj

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1019 again?
More like 420
What does it mean when the universe is talking?
Skin tight jeans ripped came from Abercrombie
With a friend like me, you’ll be under influence
Better than influenza I present like bullets
Wetter than peninsulas we slip n slide crooked
Question bad intentions on the mission that was horrid
You Yeezy gap balenciaga I ain’t even wore it
Feeding y’all diet to my cats like it’s chewy
Bleeding externally I’m leaking brake fluids
Julius Cesar they deceiving like Brutus
And they leading y’all Celtics straight to hell like a Druid 
I’m freezing hell over cuz they said couldn’t do it
I believe myself like I signed to good music
I think you mean well but I need to sure if
We speaking don’t tell use the blade and speak through it
Ringing her bell liberating my muse
no need to short sell what I crave ain’t no Lou’s
She burning up sages and I’m burning too
We got God on our side I’m like how could we lose?
Took my bae to McDonald’s and bought her some shoes
In exchange put me on to the women she knew
Took me to Doja Cat before she had blew
If she got a planet then I’ll be her moon
I be romantic if she in the mood
But I keep it G like the string out of tune
Rated PG but they shooting up schools
I would rather they shoot up some heron
And move
Crack in the land of the rich And the rude
Right by dove landing I seen how they move
When we was at standridge to read after school
They would be at a mansion with feet in a pool
They be so pampered leave pee on the stool
Smile in your face and then laugh when you snooze
I tried to be classy, but too many prudes
I’m me and I’m black I got nothing to prove
See how I had em appealing to you
Where they spread propaganda and lie on news
He in a phantom on lease I approve
At the least I appreciate leading the fools
Car will depreciate, knowledge accrues
Best man below deck a carnival cruise
All that we need is to love and the truth
So You do what You love and You love what You do
Rap til my last breath my face turning blue
I’m not a rapper bitch I play the blues
A chef with the dough ain’t no le cordon bleu 
And still repping my set in the red white and blue

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