Sunday Gunna (Ft. Meek Mill)

[Intro]
(AJ Stay Workin, on God)
(Run that back, Turbo)

[Chorus: Gunna]
All of my foreigns got luxurious speed, I could hit on the freeway
I ain't givin' no help, I know how to play deaf I dont talk to the D.A
Met yo bitch in the strip, wit' my dick on her lip, and her nut lookin' like toothpaste
If we hop in da' whip, with sixteen in the clip, that boy gon see his due date
Got hunnids', on hunnids', on hunnids', on hunnids', I keep me some blue racks
If it's your comma, it cost me a couple of commas, I got it in two days
Lot of garments, designer, and 'Coste, I'm rockin' this shit on the runway
Livin' life and I love it, won't trade it for nothin', thank God every Sunday

[Verse 1: Gunna]
Do what they don't, and I ball when I want, and these niggas don't like it
When I step on the scene it's me, I'm so fresh and so clean, I know they gon' bite it
Pockets full of blue cheese, I'm smokin' on Biscotti weed, I'm tryna get the highest
If you playin' with me, I make sure don't nobody eat, you goin' on a diet
Yeah, we ain't goin' on a diet, call up the dealer and order the Cayennes
True what I do, why the fuck is you lyin'?
Keep me a tool, 'cause the world steady dyin'
You not from the city, you live in Mt. Zion
I can't leave the spot without havin' that iron
Keep this shit quiet, don't speak through the vine
Free all my dogs on the road doin' time
Young Wunna the man, I'm touching my fam, my touch is the Midas
Swear to God we ain't playin', keep us a hot minivan, the block, we can light it
Louis bag full of bands, I keep me a lil' hunnid' gram, ain't nothin' excitin'
Out the jungle, I pull out the lion
We got somethin' to sell and we buyin'