Monday Night - SonReal

Hook:

Got one thing right

Sipping little juice up on a Monday night

I was gonna write something for radio to play

But fuck it, all I had to say was love me because I’m real

Yeah, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me

Just love me because I’m real

Yeah, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me

Just love me because I’m real

O’Ten I had a thought

What if I say this shit that they don’t ever talk

What if I move in a way that they never move

That could open up a door to something they can never knock

My man said don’t walk when they tell you march

Cause if you do, then they’ll never tell you apart

And plus, you don’t move like them anyway, do your thing, boy

, yea go ahead and sang

Boy, and let them fucking haters playing, boy

Cause you know the static just gonna generate a prank, boy

Teleprompters in the black booth, got these uptight dudes tryna act loose

Rat poison in the bird feeder, look appealing to a third wheeler

And you can follow but following only get you as far as the last follower

followed behind a leader

That’s why I don’t change on a meter, just stand a bit longer and make sure I

don’t get towed

Cause if you came here to dance you gotta stay on your toes

Tomorrow’s always been something that today will never know

So when they say that I’ll blow I never say that I know

I just keep that shit a secret like

I don’t wanna tell 'em if they don’t believe me

And I’ve been an open book when I was there, hard to win it

No, no, no

Hook:

Love me because I never fucking fronted

I’m sorry for cursing

But I feel strong as a person that wished too many recursions

Niggas still soul searching on a secular device

Niggas still saying yolo, carved in air, will live twice

This is far from a disk, keep your rumors to yourself

Drake wrote the book, Kardinal built the shelf

Socrates built the library, then he built the school

People in Toronto are nervous about tools

Cause the police are killing us dead with no apology

The future is yours, shine bright, no astrology

We slaves to technology

I’m Kunta Kinte discovering Deuteronomy

Heart’s too big for your limited cardiology

What would you rather?

A hundred dollars or honesty?

How many times I gotta sell you, nigga, honestly

Questioning my name you get killed for curiosity

Repping out north body to mind constantly

Competition is commonly seen as comedy

I wanna be better but I’m far from wannabe child prodigy

Too ill for modesty, dancing in the street with 2Pac choreography

Spitting on a camera or read in a Bible audibly

Richie, pass that Henney, let’s toast to the real

I’m kind of a big deal on my coast

Hook:

Can you give me something to believe in?

One thing, anything

Can you give me something to believe in?

One thing, anything

If our eyes are open they can’t tell us what we can’t see

And if we stop for motion

They can’t tell us what we can be

I’m singing oh, oh, oh

Can’t blame it on the alcohol

Like oh, oh, oh

Can’t blame it on the alcohol

Type iguana piper, got that flame without a lighter

Waking up tomorrow night is bumping the fucking Foo Fighters

I’ll probably face an indictment, killing everything I’m writing

My old shit wasn’t like it, but my new shit got him typing

Wow You are c oo l, fuck running a train, I’ll fucking derail

How the fuck he write the songs with so much fucking detail

I just on my retail, all I do is be real, hold up

Hook: