Sunday (feat. Frank Ocean)

I know it don't seem difficult to hit you up

But you not passionate about half the shit that you into, and I ain't havin' it

And we both know that I don't mean to offend you, I'm just focused today

And I don't know why it's difficult to admit that I miss you

And I don't know why we argue, and I just hope that you listen

And if I hurt you I'm sorry, the music makes me dismissive

When I'm awake I'm just driftin', I'm not complainin'

It's just to say that I stay pretty busy, lately

And I could be misbehaving, I just hang with my niggas

I'm fuckin' famous if you forgot, I'm faithful

Despite all my what's in my face and my pocket, and this is painfully honest

And when I say it I vomit, on cloudy days when I'm salty

I play the hate to the laundry

State to state for the profit, it ain't a stain on me, nigga

My momma raised me a prophet, I play for dollar incentive

And where I'm walking, it's studded, and half-retarded I stumble

To where she park when she visit, I grab the bottle and chug it

I see the car in the distance, I know the dark isn't coming

For the moment (for the moment)

If I could hold it (if I could hold it)

You see, you see, it seems that

All my dreams got dimmer when I stopped smoking pot

Nightmares got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot

And loving you is a little different, I don't like you a lot

You see, it seems like, um

I'm coming back I gotta handle business

Vanish to my sleepers see, left you at terminal 3

I'll meet you down at baggage claim in a couple weeks, a fortnight

When you parade my homecoming, don't cry

You know I can't live in any place I visit

To live and die in L.A.

I got my Fleetwood Mac, I could get high every day

But I'd be sleepy, OCD and paranoid, so

Give me Bali beach, no molly, please

Palm, no marijuana trees

Your hickeys on my aorta

And tattoos you could only see

When I'm playing surfboarder

Put whiskey in that salt water, I emptied every canteen

Just to wear that straight edge varsity you think's cool

They thought me soft in high school

Thank God I'm jagged

Forgot you don't like it rough

I mean, he called me a faggot

I was just calling his bluff

I mean, how anal am I gon' be when I'm aiming my gun?

And why's his mug all bloody? That was a three-on-one

Standing ovation and Staples

I got my Grammy's and gold

Polka dots on my Brit

I'm not supposed to be stunting

It's all melodic this song

I catch this vibe in my sleep

But I'm just jet-lagged is all

And restless

All my dreams got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot

Nightmares became more vivid when I stopped smoking pot

Loving you's a little different, I don't like you a lot

I mean, fuck

I don't know what we're about

What good is West Coast weather if you're bi-polar?

If I'ma need this sweater, I'd rather be where it's cold

Where it snows, I see how it goes

I put the flowers in bowls

I know they're coming in droves

You'll only miss when it goes

(Yeah, I think that's it)

When it goes...