Earl Sweatshirt - Sunday

[Verse 1: Earl Sweatshirt]
I know, it don't seem difficult to hit you up,
But you not passionate about half the shit that you into,
And I ain't havin' 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 complainin',
It's just to say that I stay pretty busy, lately.
And I could be misbehavin', I just hang with my niggas,
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, nigga!
My momma 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 comin'
For the moment, if I could hold it.
She, she seems that...
All my dreams got dimmer when I stopped smokin' pot,
Nightmares got more vivid when I stopped smokin' pot,
And loving you is a little different, I don't like you a lot,
You see, it seems like...

[Verse 2: Frank Ocean]
I'm comin 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,
And you parade my homecoming, don't cry.
You know, I can't live in any place I visit,
To live & 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,
Your hickies on my aorta, and tattoos you could only see,
When I'm playin surfboarder, put whisky in that salt water,
I emptied every canteen just to wear that Straight edge varsity you think's cool.
They thought 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 callin his bluff,
I mean, how anal am I gon be when I'm aimin my gun?
And why's his mug all bloody, that was a three on one?
Standing ovation at Staples, I got my Grammys and 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 smokin pot,
Nightmares got more vivid when I stopped smokin 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 bi-polar?
If Imma 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 comin in droves,
You'll only miss when it goes.
Yeah, I think that's it.
When it goes...