Search results for 'month of sunday by passenger' Page #8

a hater then I let him sit out and
Air dry who needs a hanger?
Airport hours, Sunday to Sunday
Let them bitches fly out the yard
Call it a runway
Call me

a pastor 
Killing fashion shit 
Issa massacre 
All my two seater missin is a passenger 
The way I whip the drop I swear  I should've flew for 
The way she

It Don't Matter

Kevin Denney

Kevin Denney

2002

There's a month of Sunday papers
In the weeds that's taken over
That ol' gravel driveway
And a quart of milk, half empty
Two weeks past

And I only rap on Sundays
I only rap on Sundays bro, it's the only time I got to rap
I don't do this rap shit bro
Yo 250 where you at Bring out baby

get thirsty for me
Friday, we got fried on the highway
Saturday, that's when she sat on my face
Sunday, we in church fresh no runway
Hoping one day we

alive
And we’re blinded by the feeling
Oh we could never say goodnight
You’d take your coffee black and read the Times
When that Sunday kind of love was

six months, it's The Mayor (ha, 'Za)
I give you that work and I'ma go for it (what, what?)
I'll never punt 'cause I'm a player (never)
Young nigga be

Pray that you here by the end of this fall
End of this Fall
Pray that you here by the end of this fall
Quiet in passenger back from ya mama house
Ya dude

songs for no listeners and throwing songs in the trash 
Making dodgy deals 'cus all we ever wanted was cash
By the time Sunday comes 
It's gone in a flash

Soul Food

Cee Lo Green

The Closet Freak: The Best of Cee Lo Green the Soul Machine

2006

too much
Drinking a cup of punch, tropical
Every last Thursday of the month

Daddy put tha hot grits on my chest in tha morning
When I was sick

the cheat codes
If vibrations send me
I drive by on winning
Can't see inside, I'm tinting
She in the passenger, venting
Massey, unrelenting
I just found my

the door
Funny hos laughing off gas ooh you gotta go
Snotty nose left in the passenger with his mommy's fold
Scotty woah
Drunken and fried right by

yeah
Let's get it

Better have my money by Monday
Been a month of Sundays
Humpty dumpty fell off
Took off on me and he fled the country
Then had some

hood's where I reside
Don't need a passenger 
I'm always down to ride
Focus on self no expectation for you muthafuckas 
Love to my brothers 
Tho we don't

early tonight. I know a lot of you ladies going to cook Sunday dinner tomorrow. Maybe if Kenneth Cole made a stove, huh? They're going to ban gas stoves

Blame it on me
Blame it on me

The brisk gust of winter
Chilled a hurting cold heart 
Warmed by a gentle presence 
Icebergs melted under the fire

Wreck of the Old '97

Connie & Babe

Down the Road to Home

1995

on the Southern railroad.

It was 97, the fastest train
Ever ran the Southern line,
All the freight trains and passengers take the side for 97,
For she's bound

true
Twelve months a year, I'll be there for you

Count on love (OH, COUNT ON LOVE), one by one
Adding up, it's never done
In this world, you and I
We

ain't got the funds, to live to the end of month
Bet them shinny rims, got you feelin like the man
Lil Kevin call ya by your first name, remember you part

apparent, the foundation like a Ferris wheel 
Wash if it's an error, then restart before the face reveal
James Charles by tomorrow, you won't wanna wait for

Seems like forever
Since I pulled myself together
Lord I've losing my mind
Been a month of Sundays
Left me Feeling this way
Finally thinking it's

than Treach
Girls in middle school pregnant by they step daddy, a mess
Not here to ridicule, but send a jewel, with Menaces got sent to school
Hardheads

wasn't three months after I left 
That papa done gone lost his mind
We found him in the shed with a bullet in his head 
And the dog sittin' by his side

under the dash

I changed all the spark plugs, fixed all the leaks
But I ain't got a window for the passenger seat
Now when I'm driving, I get lots