[Intro: KhalafallaOsman]
Turn me up

[Chorus: KhalafallaOsman]
Sunday morning and the birds are lovely
Sunday morning and the birds are lovely
Sunday morning and the birds are---

[Verse 1: Noname]
All my raps whisper unintelligence
Unrelenting irrelevance chiseled in the sediment
Letterman on the Late Night scene
You don’t know the half, Mr. Bubble Bath
Epitaph, jaded in the grass
What’s that? A massacre
A mass appeal to Apple stores and raffle scores
I wonder who gon' win the lottery
If Google maps can see my house, yo, I wonder who is watchin' me
Satellite hypocrisy like right up the block from me
Write up the doctor fees, another brown boy down
Another mother cryin' 'cause another brown boy found
And all you wanna do is smoke weed and write songs
Bang bang, sound like violins
Poverty was made to door frame all the violence
Knock knock and guess who's not there, the police
And guess who don’t care, the people
[Chorus: KhalafallaOsman & Noname]
Sunday, Sunday morning
And the birds are lovely
Sunday, Sunday morning
And the birds are lovely
Sunday, Sunday morning
And my mama love me
And my granny love me (Sunday, Sunday)
And Moni love me

[Verse 2: Noname]
Close your third eye and look with your real eyes
And look what you realize
Your water is privatized, you liquor is idolized
The government mastermind
Now that's the Illuminati and that's after your soul
Universal mind control, let me see you robot
Racism construct, let me see you robot
They would've ended war if war didn't make 'em rich
I ain’t tryna help you smoke if you ain’t tryna help me quit
Downtown dichotomy, I bet you I could politic
I could even paint Jackson where the pollack sits
Baby rap mo', concrete satchmo
Musicality, travesty, I’m a photo, shake me up
Like me glitter? Like me thinner?
Re-cap, gingerbread snapped
No Oprah or oxygen or darker skin
I’m the training ground for a rainbow
It’s like pop pop Skittle bag, ask me where the riddle at
And I’ll serve you Ritalin, double-coated in cinnamon
No harmonies, just synonyms, Sunday hymns, praise the Lord
And the drugs that raised me, baptized in saline
They found my parachute under the rubble
I found redemption under the tunnel
Don’t get trapped
[Outro: Noname]
Sunday Sunday morning
And the birds are lovely