Текст песни Sunday Morning Cleaning - Audiotree Live Version - Ausar

I'm a raisin in the sun
By the poolside pruning
Aging and prudent
Soul as old as the hymn I hear in the distance
Sound like a Sunday morning cleaning
I paint the scene like the Sistine ceiling
Seal my fate in an envelope mailed to my sender
Leave it buried in a capsule for me to
Capture when rapture come
Just tell em please don't spoil the footnotes
Never looked to a tarot for a carrot of knowledge
I know his eye is on the sparrow so in spite of peril
I am still a pearl inside the hands
Of the most careful tenured jeweler
In pursuit of making pieces of apparel
All of them are herald
As the best just like the harolds that you're family frequents
I am not a hero just an heirloom
Looming in the air is the thick or resistance calling
Like the crisp you feel in autumn

Don't tell me chill

I feel like a man possessed as of late on a hill
I'd die on it a king before I let em knock my spiel
Rap is not a skill more a gift
That I've had the time to congeal into movement
No longer sitting still
At the age of 24 I've seen too many homies die young
Futures that was vibrant with they light dimmed
So who am I to wake up every morning
Thinking time is mine to harness for myself
Like it's not children starving
Who could probably change the world if just acknowledged
And people still in bondage
That line is an entendre in itself
Distribution of wealth and resources that set us back
A system that's not made for us hate us because we black
My Pops came from nothing so I wanted for nothing
I watched him toil the soil for the generation below him to flourish
Approaching 50
And he still growing
I watch his evolution in awe
Often I stall when I
Think about my progress
So many people counting on me making it
I've taken it to heart
Just as I know the body that I'm blessed with
Will eventually turn carcass
And a car can only start with the functioning of parts
In one accord within the member like a caucus
I know I'm far from flawless
And so I often audit my process
I know a wise man is auditory first
So I immerse into each parable of life
Rehearsing lesson like a parrot from insight
That's apparent I'm enlightened with by blocking out my sight
Walk by faith until my mights become a will
And then my Will becomes my might
And any woes become a wheel in which I steer
Just like a steer until I'm stable
Cavalier in my approach
Change my closet from the catacombs to clear
Storage space
More a base in which I build
Playing billiards when the ball is in my court
Every line I spit is felt
Earn my stripes and when my suits finally assort
It feel like a Sunday morning cleaning