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D B S Sunday

you can bury yourself in the flag when you die for your homeland. and you can think that one's sexual preferance decide's whether or not he's a man.

I walked across the street An' caught the Sunday smell of someone's fried chicken And it took me back to somethin' That I'd lost somewhere, somehow along the way On the Sunday

homie Shy-D I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin'ist Player Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor Monday night, 'Gentle men's Club' Tuesday night, I'm up

park (On a Sunday afternoon) On a Sunday, baby, afternoon (Having so much fun) Everybody's, everybody's just chillin' (Everybody's just chillin') On a Sunday afternoon (On a Sunday

really don't wanna hurt nobody, just kill off Illuminati Fuck the D.E.A. and the F.B.I. I.R.S. can kiss my ass, U.C.P.D., F.C.C. Y'all better quit too

about the b*tchin' I was about the livin' Man niggas mad at me, must be actin feminine I don't five a f*ck niggas talkin' about let's get it in. If

O.D. Cash Rule Everything Around Me I'm YSL, Versace You could see me in that Porsche GT Comin' down Sunset sittin' on D's Feelin' like 'Pac, All Eyez

what my limit is I've been packin' 22's like emmitt did I've been po' before know what a limit is New engine new paint ain't them D's spinnin' Love rims

whiff of this, believe it's goin' down It's goin' down, right now it's goin' down Floss, comin' through L or Tampa on vogues In Uncle Mooney's 'lac