Sunday's Best Lyrics

Feelin' my Sunday's best

Yeah ayy dressed to impress

Yeah Thank god for the check

Yeah Thank god for the check

Run to the money I ain't break a sweat

She know I can flex and it's weighing my neck

Nothin' to me it's an average bet

Cash on the bed I can make it a mess

Foldin' the sheets like I'm folding the paper

Wavin' that bread like I wave to a hater

That bimmer speed off like I said see ya later

The gang can all eat like I ordered a cater

My get up too clean you can smell the fresh taper

Yeah ayy

My get up too clean you can smell the fresh taper

Yeah ayy

Back on my bullshit again

On the same shit till the end

Winnin' or losing still me and my twin

I think the rims 20s it sit on a Benz

Yeah okay

The loft up in Dallas the traffic just started

Yeah okay

My flight is at 8 and I'm nearly departed

Yeah

I'm living out coast to coast

Smoking out choke to choke

My bitches be doing the most

Hand em all cheese and then go

It ain't nothing for all of the bros

(Yeah Yeah Okay)

It ain't nothin' for all of the bros

Feelin' my Sunday's best

Yeah ayy dressed to impress

Yeah Thank god for the check

Yeah Thank god for the check

Run to the money I ain't break a sweat

She know I can flex and it's weighing my neck

Nothin' to me it's an average bet

Cash on the bed I can make it a mess

Foldin' the sheets like I'm folding the paper

Wavin' that bread like I wave to a hater

That beamer speed off like I said see ya later

The gang can all eat like I ordered a cater

My get up too clean you can smell the fresh taper

Yeah ayy

My get up too clean you can smell the fresh taper

Yeah ayy