Sunday

Album: Doris (2013)
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  • I know it don't seem difficult to hit you up
    But you not passionate
    About half the shit that you into
    And I ain't havin' it
    And we both know that I don't mean to offend you
    I'm just focused today
    And I don't know why it's difficult
    To admit that I miss you
    And I don't know why we argue
    And I just hope that you listen
    And if I hurt you I'm sorry
    The music makes me dismissive
    When I'm awake I'm just driftin'
    I'm not complainin'
    It's just to say that I stay pretty busy, lately
    And I could be misbehaving
    I just hang with my niggas
    I'm fuckin' famous if you forgot, I'm faithful
    Despite all what's in my face and my pocket
    And this is painfully honest
    And when I say it I vomit
    On cloudy days when I'm salty
    I play the hate to the laundry
    State to state for the profit
    it ain't a stain on me, nigga
    My momma raised me a prophet
    I play for dollar incentive
    And where I'm walking, it's studded
    and half-retarded I stumble
    To where she park when she visit
    I grab the bottle and chug it
    I see the car in the distance
    I know the dark isn't coming
    For the moment, if I could hold it
    She, she seems that

    All my dreams got dimmer when I stopped smoking pot
    Nightmares got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot
    And loving you is a little different
    I don't like you a lot
    You see, it seems like

    I'm coming back I gotta handle business
    Vanish to my sleeper seat
    left you at terminal three
    I'll meet you down at baggage claim
    in a couple weeks, a fortnight
    When you parade my homecoming, don't cry
    You know I can't live in any place I visit
    To live and die in LA
    I got my Fleetwood Mac, I could get high every day
    But I'd be sleepy, OCD and paranoid, so
    Give me Bali beach, no molly please
    Palm, no marijuana trees
    Yo hickeys on my aorta and tattoos you could only see
    When I'm playing surfboarder, put whisky in that salt water
    I emptied every canteen, just to wear
    that straight edge varsity you think's cool
    They thought me soft in High School
    thank God I'm jagged
    Forgot you don't like it rough
    I mean he called me a faggot
    I was just calling his bluff
    I mean how anal am I gon' be when I'm aiming my gun
    And why's his mug all bloody, that was a three on one?
    Standing ovation at Staples
    I got my Grammy's and gold
    Polka dots on my brit
    I'm not supposed to be stunting
    It's all melodic this song
    I catch this vibe in my sleep
    But I'm just jet-lagged is all, and restless

    All my dreams got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot
    Nightmares got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot
    And loving you is a little different
    I don't like you a lot
    I mean, fuck

    I don't know what we're about
    What good is West Coast weather if you're bi-polar?
    If I'ma need this sweater
    I'd rather be where it's cold
    Where it snows
    I see how it goes
    I put the flowers in bowls
    I know they're coming in droves
    You'll only miss when it goes
    (Yeah, I think that's it)
    When it goes Writer/s: Christopher Breaux, Thebe Kgositsile
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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