[Part 1]

[Intro: Pastor Cortez Harris]
The call has gone out, responses have come
And we bless God for our brother who's given God his life
Is there anything you'd like to say on behalf?
Lord send an angel, watch over my own
I came not to call the righteous, but the sinners to repentance
Lord send an angel, watch over my own
Luke 5:32, they say gangsters don't pray – I beg to differ
Lord send an angel, watch over my own
We pray every night
We pray every night to make it out of these struggles
We pray all the time to make it out of this hell that we stuck in (CyHi!)
Lord send an angel, watch over my own
Real gangsters don't wanna be in the streets
We was stuck out here 'cause we ain't got no choice
Who gon' pray for us?

[Chorus: CyHi the Prynce]
Yeah, no dope on Sundays
That's only if you really out here getting money
No dope on Sundays
You know the trap back boomin' Monday
But no dope on Sundays
When you out here dirty, this the day you do the laundry
No dope on Sundays
But any other day it's rain, sleet or sunny
[Verse 1: CyHi the Prynce]
Nah I ain't a street n***a, just a n***a in the street
Any other day than Sunday I can get you what you need
I'm talking like a couple keys, want the mid, come fuck with me
Pounds of kush, come hustle these, the cars we push is luxury
Oh I heard you want the lean, nah that's not my cup of tea
But I can pull a few strings, let me work my puppetry, huh
Anything from crack to puppy food
Why you think I bank with Chase? I'm everywhere the money move
My Hyundai Cruz making plays, my operation running smooth
Brought a tool just in case these n***as in a grumpy mood
Oh I heard they 'bout that gunplay, cool, we 'bout that gunplay too
My rendezvous made the front page news, I like my hundreds blue
Chucking Jewels, taking strippers out of town on honeymoons
Leave they kids with they grandma so they go to Sunday school
My n***a hit my phone and said he need a hundred cool
I said "Let me hit my folks, but you know the only rule"

[Chorus: CyHi the Prynce]
No dope on Sundays
That's only if you really out here getting money
No dope on Sundays
You know the trap back boomin' Monday
But no dope on Sundays
When you out here dirty, this the day you do the laundry
No dope on Sundays
But any other day it's rain, sleet, or sunny
[Verse 2: CyHi the Prynce]
I been in the streets since 16, ya dig?
How many zips in a elbow is 16, ya dig?
N***as seem to forget how much clean I done hid
Remember sneaking in the club with the thing-a-ma-jig
My OG pulled up on the scene in a wig
When you running from the feds, you can't be seen by the pigs
Y'all don't know all the things I seen and I did
Being in the dope game was never my dream as a kid
But I got better plans though, ain't nowhere I can't go
Trip to Amsterdam, I telegram my Netherland hoes
Boy I'm living off my art like I'm selling Van Goghs
I'm all about the cream, I got Method Man goals
My dawgs just left the bando, so hater, never stand close
Before my partner up the Sig and leave you second-hand smoked
I'ma reign all year, so let the weatherman know
In all the ghettos of America all the way to Redan Road
No dope on Sundays

[Part 2]

[Intro]
Lex Luger on the beat so what the fuck you think?

[Chorus: CyHi the Prynce]
I work the graveyard shift, that's how we made our chips
Bunch of AR clips, I pull this K, y'all dip
Where the young n***as die, we live our days in dog years
Boosie Badazz, I'm down to catch a fade if y'all is
[Verse 1: CyHi the Prynce]
We was the type to shoot a n***a dead and pray that y'all live
So we can swing by your house and come and spray at y'all crib
Had the trap on Cleveland Ave by the K-Mart, bitch
I brought them bags to the hood and made 'em slang our shit
In Atlanta y'all don't know how good my face card is
Turned the Racetrack on Bouldercrest to a baseball field
It's safe to say it's all real but all my scars is all healed
'Cause I been stabbed in the back more times than Paul Pierce
But enough about my past, it's time to save our kids
So our sons will never have to live the way we all did
If you trappin' n***a, trap to send your daughter off to college
If you trappin' n***a, trap to get your mother out the projects
If you trappin' n***a, trap to get yo' people out the streets
Oh you trappin' just to be trappin'? Oh you trappin' for these freaks?
But if you a real trap n***a, do me one favor
And tell all my partners in Decatur
No dope on Sundays

[Chorus: CyHi the Prynce]
I work the graveyard shift, that's how we made our chips
Bunch of AR clips, I pull this K, y'all dip
Where the young n***as die, we live our days in dog years
Boosie Badazz, I'm down to catch a fade if y'all is

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
Started out trappin', tryna get the new Bo's
Then I realized what it did for them hoes
When I recognized what you did to your nose
I couldn't justify what I did to my bro
Fed an addiction, I just let it snow
Failed my religion, I couldn't let it go
Fell in addiction, I just chased the glow
See you don't need the drums when you just talking what you know
See what I seen, n***a snitching on the low
N***as coming home, n***as out here acting like you owe
The truth is you love 'em but they putting on a show
You gotta cash 'em out and validate to everyone they know
Time's changing, it's hard for some to grow
And the conversations are no longer "Man, we 'bout to blow"
I wanna see you back up on your feet and that's fa'sho'
The whole city know I've done enough so there's no mo'
Push

[Chorus: CyHi the Prynce]
I work the graveyard shift, that's how we made our chips
Bunch of AR clips, I pull this K, y'all dip
Where the young n***as die, we live our days in dog years
Boosie Badazz, I'm down to catch a fade if y'all is


[Outro: Pusha T & CyHi the Prynce]
I'm glad you gave me this shit with like no drums
I just wanted to, like, I was tryna make it as conversational
As possible 'cause it's just conversation
CyHi The Prynce, my n***a for life, Push
But Peter said unto him, "Thy money perish with thee
Because thou hast thought that the gift of God
May be purchased with money." Acts 8:20