Ishmael Raps - Sunday lyrics

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Ishmael Raps - Sunday lyrics

[Ishmael] Tryna hit the sky with the city I'm repping Presidential New York City in the telly can you tell a n***a done with the stressin' Stress sh** Flexing Residential hit the pedal out the ghetto with the rap n***as screaming out love, n***as screaming out love But they never gimmie dap up Back up, finna go dumb wit the stacks I'm screaming All I ever wanted was some f**ing Guap Broke as a b**h, white tee and some Louie socks I swear I'm raps almighty n***as thought I had a lot Cause I got balmain for the low and attract hella thots Ay go swerve on a n***a Hoes be disturbing a n***a Lurking while I'm working I'm murking these dumb n***as out my circuit, first I'm, k**ing 29 no Curtis Two quarters, half time, get off my dirt b**h n***as when it's rap time do this sh** perfect When I'm k** you n***as I do it on purpose To look at the bigger picture cause n***a I'm hurting Hey [Cae] Make ya bow down to me on my sensei sh** I'm k**ing it my n***a face it I be on my get paid sh** So fly my whip is a damn spaceship Know a lot of n***as hatin but they never say sh** Get a lame n***a vanquished Excalibur level I slay sh** I'm 'bout to be one of the greatest Young Jonesy boy now show me where the cash at Cause all the homies tryna stack that F'sho we in the back posted up and dont ask for daps we not showin love I don't know you cats you not from the jump...homie just stop Headed for the top chilling in a rocket off a little bit of pot no lie bro I do this sh** alot [Chorus: Ishmael Raps] I said I pull up in that motherf**ing ghost And when I pull off n***as know I'm on the go I say Sunday to Sunday I'm on the road I say Sunday to Sunday I'm on the road X2 [Frank] It go: Wrist, Wrist, sip a dick and hit the Uber Got Atlantic on the phone, lady going like a Hoover On that Juke Juke, finna Choo Choo to the goudda Never been on that but I'm often offing a tho(ugh)t to get to Buddha like [Mike] Ooo it's Mike Watch MFs play football hate my stupid life Thinking bout suicide got 23 million reasons They really tweaking but f** it Couldn't be gang, you know the gang run it Lame got a chain you know the stain took it Even if you tuck that b**h, nah baby I ain't f** that b**h You crazy [Frank] And y'all on Ye, I'm finna be Bach Pick of the day I'm grip of the crop No Waleing claming Pac, better not Y'all better off, feather on, headed for the block On a yak with a Glock and the b**h ain't loaded Piff in the whip and the big man towed it I be sitting low, you be rolling I be locomoting [Mike] Motive missing, Olsen tripping Rolling, Sipping, Choking Ion even really think no drug Mfs made finna fill this void We just finna drill them boys We just finna hit these Roids gon beat they a** Squad 2k they EA, trash Taking they sh** getting Ebay cash Ion like Green Bay though [Hook] X2