Lil Yachty – A Cold Sunday Lyrics

A Cold Sunday Lyrics

It’s a cold Sunday to complain, I hold it in until it rain
I fault demons after fame, I spent millions on terrain
I treat my bitch just like Diana
Pretty princess, hold the Fanta
2003 Dolce & Gabbana jeans make her ass look fatter
We won’t catch him outside
He don’t got no money for the back up
I ran thirty million in the ground, baby, now I’m back up
She a city girl, I’m the real reason that she act up (Mmm)
She talk back, I make her pack up, send her home on Spirit
Something in my spirit made me not believe, I fear it (Mmm)
I know bitches parrots so I’m watchin’ how I’m speakin’
Single but I’m creepin’, my main bitch don’t need a headache (Ooh)
Half a mill on Maybach, tires flat, I never drive ’em (Mmm)
Pretty hoes need stylin’, Balenci’ shoppin’ got ’em wildin’
Tweakin’ out on Collins, in my veins, the Molly throbbin’ (Geekin’)
Rich as hell, still robbin’, ain’t no love the way I’m rockin’
Bentley color gobblin, forest green, the lane I’m hoggin’ (Spin)
Wrap the P like swallin’, get it through yo’ fuckin’ noggin (Damn)
Money’s first, I’m always dialed in (Uh, brrt)
Money’s first, I’m always dialed in, is that a problem? (Go)
I made m’s off a TV like I work for Viacom
Doggy didn’t stay for long, he left when the sirens rung
Flyest n*** with turnt bitches, BD’s in the tightest diamonds
I could put out wild fires, the house behind barb wire
Twenty-five but livin’ like I’m fifty with three kids
All these bitches in my biz, five-hundred thousand on my bitch (Uh)
Fuck if you don’t like me
I’ma still get faded more than likely, it’s enticin’
I’ll die for my respect

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