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Dirty Gene - Sundays Lyrics




I Hope I die gonna Sunday

Trust in my struggle, I know
Confident, humble, I go
Demons I know are fiends for the gold. Keep it a row
Fear and loathing I've seen. Here to capture my dreams
Learned to fight for my team, I still carry something. yea
Dancing wit the devil, she gon' feel offended
F*ck the feelings, I been out here winnin'
I aint stoppin' till I get it. Get it
Clip in, air it out until it's empty
I'ma have to empty every drum, hit 'em in the equilibrium
We aint equal how they feelin huh? There's always gunna be a better one
Off white, scribbled down, then I hit the scene
Same ole kid, same pair of dirty jeans
Pockets sky blue, got the stripes across the cream
Roll that bitch up, hit a rail, and pop some beans
Oh, big homie gon' tell me, It's them Teslas
Always keep the gas, but no fuel injections
I aint talkin' cars if you aint know it, keep guessin
Move without a sound, no posin', no flexin
Always keep a swisher rolled, Diamond wit the vegetables
Known to be a healthy kid, but still keep the siggy close
Thats burnin' holes through the lungs
Given' up my soul? I aint ever been the one
Holdin' on to a dream, I don't sleep, I don't eat
I aint ever letting' go and I aint scared of the heat
Walkin' through the valley, I stay light on my feet
Made it through the trap, just a put it on my teeth
Plantin' seeds, I got millions to grow
Southside knew demons fiend for the gold
Ice won't save you from a clip to the dome
So I'm sleeping' wit that AR till the day that I'm gone. Alright

Big bro told me, For every high there's a low
Southside Nue
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I Hope I die gonna Sunday

Trust in my struggle, I know
Confident, humble, I go
Demons I know are fiends for the gold. Keep it a row
Fear and loathing I've seen. Here to capture my dreams
Learned to fight for my team, I still carry something. yea
Dancing wit the devil, she gon' feel offended
F*ck the feelings, I been out here winnin'
I aint stoppin' till I get it. Get it
Clip in, air it out until it's empty
I'ma have to empty every drum, hit 'em in the equilibrium
We aint equal how they feelin huh? There's always gunna be a better one
Off white, scribbled down, then I hit the scene
Same ole kid, same pair of dirty jeans
Pockets sky blue, got the stripes across the cream
Roll that bitch up, hit a rail, and pop some beans
Oh, big homie gon' tell me, It's them Teslas
Always keep the gas, but no fuel injections
I aint talkin' cars if you aint know it, keep guessin
Move without a sound, no posin', no flexin
Always keep a swisher rolled, Diamond wit the vegetables
Known to be a healthy kid, but still keep the siggy close
Thats burnin' holes through the lungs
Given' up my soul? I aint ever been the one
Holdin' on to a dream, I don't sleep, I don't eat
I aint ever letting' go and I aint scared of the heat
Walkin' through the valley, I stay light on my feet
Made it through the trap, just a put it on my teeth
Plantin' seeds, I got millions to grow
Southside knew demons fiend for the gold
Ice won't save you from a clip to the dome
So I'm sleeping' wit that AR till the day that I'm gone. Alright

Big bro told me, For every high there's a low
Southside Nue
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: CHESTER CONN, BENNIE KRUEGER, NED MILLER, JULE STYNE
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, O/B/O DistroKid, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Fintage House Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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