Tiara Thomas - Cla** on Sunday lyrics

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Tiara Thomas - Cla** on Sunday lyrics

[Verse 1: Tiara Thomas] If anybody asks, yeah we got cla** We dressed up to party like trash Then we hit the spot with the overnight bag We woke up act like nothing ever happened [Hook: Tiara Thomas] Because we got smoked up Homies on the floor get doped up I'm in the back gettin' choked up And everybody got thrown up [Verse 2: Tiara Thomas] If anybody asks, yeah we got bags Cops came runnin', they drivin' up fast Lights go shining, in my back dash Never pull over, cause we don't know what happened [Hook: Tiara Thomas] Because we got smoked up We in the car gettin' doped up In the back seat gettin' choked up And everybody got thrown up [Verse 3: Tiara Thomas] Yeah, I met this girl the other day She said, "Hi my name is Grace I love your music, I love your face And I normally don't say this But if I could take you home Bet I'd switch teams up like Peyton But please don't take this wrong Cause I promise I'm not gay and I just been known to play with Some girls back from the states and Some girls I went to school with Some girls back from the way Said, "Hey girl, hey, whatchu say? I don't give a f** if you're gay or straight" Bi or high, don't blow my I wish you would, birthday cake And I'm always baked, I don't mind I get wasted, y'all waste time Put that Mary all in that barrel Then smokin' all on that nine Smoke all in my eyes, smoke all in my face Blowin' all of that white boy, and I ain't talkin' race No I ain't talkin' runnin', presidential debate Yeah we got cla**, like on MLK day [Verse 4: Black Cobain] Kush clouds, I'm on nine of them Just ponderin' like, should I let my conscious in Go put your feet up on the ottoman Arsonist I burn all of this, I wish I didn't give your heart a kiss You call my phone, I call it quits Decline that sh**, you call again Man I'm gettin' stoned, Rosetta Why don't you leave me alone, need a Michael Jackson leather Cut from a different texture f** with all your questions Damn a n***a faded, I just ran the intersection I was rushing to that, uh Rushing to that you know Yeah she talkin' freaky when I put it in her culo Ooh, don't put no ashes in my sh** She was on my mind, now she on my dick f** all night, then she roll that sh** She ain't even know I was cold like this Call a n***a dope when she on that sh** Got mind-f**ed now I own that b**h Heard TT now she love that sh** Might go down cause I do that sh** I'm on a few d** but I'm on my sh** She ain't really have a real love like this So we gettin' high 'til it all make sense [Outro: Black Cobain] Right here where I'm supposed to be And it's too far, hope this'll get you close to me Let the windows down, let the smoke out We hotbox, she got choked out She was precipitatin' my kush cloud