Sunday (feat. Frank Ocean)

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

But you're not passionate

About half the shit that you into

And I ain't having 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 complaining

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

And I could be misbehaving

I just hang with my ****

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

Despite all 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 logic

State to state for the profit

It ain't a stain on me, ****

My mama raised me a prophet

I play for dollar incentive

And where I'm walkin', 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, if I could hold it

She, she, seems that

All my dreams got dimmer, when I stopped smoking pot

Nightmares got more vivid, when I stopped smoking pot

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

You see, it seems like

I'm coming back, I gotta handle business

Vanish to my sleeper seat

Left you at terminal three

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 LA

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

Yo' hickeys on my aorta, and tattoos you could only see

When I'm playing surfboarder, I put whiskey in that salt water

I emptied every canteen, just to wear that straight-edge varsity

You think's cool

They called 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 at Staples, I got my Grammys in gold

Polka dots on my Brit

I'm not supposed to be stuntin'

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 got 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 bipolar?

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