50 Cent
50 Cent - Sunday Morning lyrics
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This is how I'm feeling right now, I mean I'm.. I'm blessed [Chorus] Me, I ain't got to send a usher around with baskets or talk to a choir But nigga I'm cleaner than your motherfucking preacher on sunday morning Me, I run the streets all week, hustle hard, I do work to get by But bet I be the cleanest motherfucking in the service on sunday morning [Verse 1] I make so many mistakes, so many corrections I'm so far from perfect, so many imperfections But I'm a go getta, I get up and go get it So if you're preaching prosperity, I wanna hear it I make the hood look good, turn the base into base line Punch lines to white lines, run from the one time My verse is like a graphic scene, close your eyes Now you seen the dope fiend lean And you seen the pimp pimp hoes The 4-4 blow and niggas puff dro Like there's no tomorrow Hit that pass that, that's the motto You know jail's like vacation for my friends They go away, come home and do the same shit again You think I'm bad, man they don't give a fuck They trying do what they gotta do to get a buck [Chorus] Me, I ain't got to send a usher around with baskets or talk to a choir But nigga I'm cleaner than your motherfucking preacher on sunday morning Me, I run the streets all week, hustle hard, I do work to get by But bet I be the cleanest motherfucking in the service on sunday morning [Verse 2] I take the line out the good book an eye for an eye Shoot me I shoot you back, I don't care if you die First the sun comes down, then the sun goes up And the coke price too when the Ds make a bust It's freeze nigga, get the fuck on the wall and Everything you worked for, they come to take it all Man it's like they don't know what they taking Hit you with the tazer, I'll have you sizzling like bacon When you pray say a prayer for me, a nigga could use it Through my pain there's a piece of me in all of my music Go head you can judge me, I'm hoping you love me I see I got it mastered, muh muh muh magic Hocus pocus keep the bitches focused Before we pop up on that ass with toasters Lord forgive me I'm regressing again Forgive me for that line and the rest of my sins [Chorus] Me, I ain't got to send a usher around with baskets or talk to a choir But nigga I'm cleaner than your motherfucking preacher on sunday morning Me, I run the streets all week, hustle hard, I do work to get by But bet I be the cleanest motherfucking in the service on sunday morning