Got problems, what? i can't say
Oh lord like it's sunday
The bitch is too fucking lousy, the fat bitch eats brownies
Is it the money or my marriage or media peace
I'll have your ass by sunday,
I make forty-some dollars a day
Never ever pay rent
I get dressed in my sunday best
Verse one: 2paci take a shot of henessey now i'm strong enough to face the madness
High on brownies, fly on frownies, die froma suicidal act of spiritual kindness.
So please step aside
2am on a sunday night
He would end up getting shot upnow i could not walk away
If i bomb on saturday you know she flea by sunday
But put it in slow-mo, i don't want to bust the tape yet, press play
Trust me, i attend the local church every sunday,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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