Houston We Got It / Sunday by Tiger Tchakount Lyrics

[Intro]
Shit I'm not even from Houston so
Tell the HP we got it
Montreal we got it
The whole fucking country we got it nigga

[Verse 1]
We don't run the same earth
We don't curse the same words
But we stay piling up
Under all the same jerks
I'ma let this pen blurt
I won't let this pain hurt
Some of y'all fighting for which one of your pain's worst
What about who can make it out this fucking pain first
Who can grow red camellia out this fucking plain dirt
Check out how my paint dirts
Check out how I slay a verse
They gon' yell the lyrics, but remember what's the name first

[Hook 1]
Sorry how I came I got many ghosts to blame
They came they saw took it all but my name
Fuck out my place, Know you hear what I'm saying
Don't take it too harsh, I'm the one I should blame
Sorry how I came I got many ghosts to blame
They came they saw took it all but my name
Fuck out my place, Know you hear what I'm saying
Don't take it too harsh, I'm the one I should blame
[Verse 2]
Call me the rap physicist
I got stupid stitches
Y'all got stupid issues
Why you superstitious?
I'm just too ambitious
Y'all be too religious
I'm just breaking digits
Y'all playing for the crickets
Weak niggas got problems, real niggas done solve em
Dali niggas like you and me, we see problems we call em
All part of the mathematics
You send me away with the fucking medics
I don't need to write on an affidavit
That I fracture your neck when I'm back at it
I got mad habits
Never play it safe, always play it late
Always play it great, no matter where I came
Y'all just do it cause the Nike ad just told you
I just do it so my racks confirm you owe me and
I owned you nigga

[Hook 2]
Sorry how I came I got many ghosts to blame
They came they saw took it all but my name
Fuck out my place, know you hear what I'm saying
Don't take it too harsh, I'm the one I should blame
[Verse 3]
Need a beef? Write me a post-it, I'ma paste it on my skate
I can't talk, gotta go to work, It'll be my fifth time being late
Oh no, Dali on a mix-tape, that's his fifth time being great
Call it five fingers of death, I'm Shia free-styling on Sway
I'm somewhere else nigga
I'm off pocket, or off logic
My back hurts but it's not retained by old topics
I leave you niggas in the pound my ass is on a rocket
Fade away, sink a bucket, tell Houston we got it
Shut-up bitch, I'm talking
I'm brighter than your locket
Your flow I know, you rob it
You still under the market
My name you better mark it
Peace and love, Inshallah
Spin the groove for another mosh-pit

[Intro]
I need every cellphone lighted up in this mother fucka'
We gotta light this shit up the trap way
If you got a cellphone light put your cellphone light up right now

[Hook 1]
I don't even go to church, that shit never works
But tonight I'ma pray for you (for you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
[Verse 1]
First date on the church step
Can't work gotta curve left
Sins gave me the worst lefts
I should check what kind of curse's left
Life burns like a corvette
Forgot about what I should forget
Go through my debt on my first cheque
I don't even know what I'm worth net
Wanna serve bets?
What's next?
What a bad year to be on deck
Sicko mode live from the whole web
I just post memes for the whole net
I just make beats you ain't heard yet
I just make sure that my team doesn't throw down the serviette
Pedal to the turf 'til I hurt a neck
Swerve til there ain't any skrt to be skrt left

[Hook 2]
I don't even go to church, that shit never works
But tonight I'ma pray for you (for you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
I don't even go to church, my life can't get worse
But tonight I'ma pray for you
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)
For you
(For you)