Monday Starts On Saturday by Proper Channels Lyrics
[Intro]
Yo just a little more
That's perfect
Proper Channels
Shouts to Doomtree
[Chorus]
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
[Verse 1: Bon Mot]
Quit rapping? Here's to hoping
Homie wouldn't notice he was choking unless he wrote it
Rodents at his digits still his sole focus is growing
His perspective, yet he knows he needs his notes to get it open
Glowing like it's daybreak
Make way for King Can't-Seem-To-Put-Two-And-Two-Together-On-The-Same-Day
Trash Can, last man to admit that the critics
Don’t need epiphanies from the same page
Wait till they verify that they heard it
Say his days are perfect like fulfilling greater purpose
Now he's resting, rehearsing his routine until he learns it
You guessed it. Two steps: have a job, work it
Savor every single second spent outside a kitchen
Wishing really hard won't make your dreams come to fruition
Being positive will positively make a difference
In absolutely nothing, holler if you paying rent
[Chorus]
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
[Verse 2: Plot Device]
Witty poets, thinking that we’re so clever
Pro effort, rock a show in an old sweater
In cold weather, if its ever cold, it never snows ever
Forever bold, code guesser, so-so dresser
Up late with beats, keep it real quiet
Else the neighbors waking up feeling real tired
Reveal fire, Prometheus with mere wires
Smile on my face even if its all real dire
Mic in my hand, getting pretty obnoxious
Otherwise low-key with my fingers in pockets
Keep building ‘till we’re chilling on top steps
Even a locksmith couldn’t unlock it
Couldn’t be topped if you was drizzling chocolate
Wouldn’t be stopped, even if you said “Stop it”
On some Monday Starts on Saturday
Last to play, trashing all your accolades
Yo just a little more
That's perfect
Proper Channels
Shouts to Doomtree
[Chorus]
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
[Verse 1: Bon Mot]
Quit rapping? Here's to hoping
Homie wouldn't notice he was choking unless he wrote it
Rodents at his digits still his sole focus is growing
His perspective, yet he knows he needs his notes to get it open
Glowing like it's daybreak
Make way for King Can't-Seem-To-Put-Two-And-Two-Together-On-The-Same-Day
Trash Can, last man to admit that the critics
Don’t need epiphanies from the same page
Wait till they verify that they heard it
Say his days are perfect like fulfilling greater purpose
Now he's resting, rehearsing his routine until he learns it
You guessed it. Two steps: have a job, work it
Savor every single second spent outside a kitchen
Wishing really hard won't make your dreams come to fruition
Being positive will positively make a difference
In absolutely nothing, holler if you paying rent
[Chorus]
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
Ayy God damn, God damn, God damn, God damn
[Verse 2: Plot Device]
Witty poets, thinking that we’re so clever
Pro effort, rock a show in an old sweater
In cold weather, if its ever cold, it never snows ever
Forever bold, code guesser, so-so dresser
Up late with beats, keep it real quiet
Else the neighbors waking up feeling real tired
Reveal fire, Prometheus with mere wires
Smile on my face even if its all real dire
Mic in my hand, getting pretty obnoxious
Otherwise low-key with my fingers in pockets
Keep building ‘till we’re chilling on top steps
Even a locksmith couldn’t unlock it
Couldn’t be topped if you was drizzling chocolate
Wouldn’t be stopped, even if you said “Stop it”
On some Monday Starts on Saturday
Last to play, trashing all your accolades