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Maxima Video (MV)




Performed By: Cal Combs
Length: 2:31
Written by: Cal Combs




Cal Combs - Maxima Lyrics




Sunshine coming through the window
One time, gotta do it right for the kinfolk aye
All I wanna do is get it right
Living for the love and I'm all about the light
All i gotta do is get myself outta the bed
Cuz the way that I've been working steady going to my head
I'm the man for the fans and I'm just doing what I can
Yeah, Im just doing what I can
Gotta spread the love and I gotta spread the peace
Got the positivity and then you got the keys
Now you living free
Now you living life
Like you know that everything and everybody always gonna be alright
Toodaloo to the things that you knew
Lemme tell you something, lemme tell you something true
All you gotta do
Is change the way that you been thinking
If you thinking about the negative your boat is always sinking
If you thinking bout' the telephone the telephone is ringing
Are you gonna pick it up
Are you reaching for the ceiling
Ring, ring, ring, on a onomatopoeia
When you swinging from the chandelier hanging out with Sia
Wouldn't wanna be ya
Visualizations got me on mine
Know where I'll be at like twenty-nine
Gonna break bread with the greatest
Buy momma a brand new Mercedes
Standing in front of a crowd of a million still making political statements
Like ohh look we made it
The way that I'm using my payments
Will never be about no enslavement
If ever I'm famous
I'm spending to save education
If that don't make me the most literal candidate to run the new school nation
Then I'm all out of patience

Oh snap, what a throwback
Backpack rapper mapping that soul map
Individual defending minimal intervals of continual cynicals
Gotta find a way to get the admirable optimism incentive though
Who the god that you praying to
Do you preach for the love and the freedom too?
Or you talking about the persecution
Like theres no solution
Except the one that you were given from the institution
That's wrong
Telling me that every single person with a different opinion
Ain't gonna make it to your heaven they gone
Lemme tell you this
If you gonna damn the gays
You gonna fight the jews
You gonna tell some muslims they aint right to do
What they been doing in they culture
Then forget you and your sofa
Dirty ass shoes on your couch
Better watch your mouth
Considering the fact that we going to the place
Where the labels don't matter
We can finally escape
All the things that really don't mean shit
Looking at the list
Hell is gonna be lit
Why can't we all get along
Been talking about this in like all of my songs
So proud of my dad
So proud of my mom
Cuz they are like oil and water
But still keep a bond
No matter what's happened how much you've been hurt
You can still make all this work
Make a decision and make it your mission to bring positivity into fruition
Start popping like pistons
Inside of an engine
And whip up that love
When you cook in the kitchen
Let's switch the condition
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Sunshine coming through the window
One time, gotta do it right for the kinfolk aye
All I wanna do is get it right
Living for the love and I'm all about the light
All i gotta do is get myself outta the bed
Cuz the way that I've been working steady going to my head
I'm the man for the fans and I'm just doing what I can
Yeah, Im just doing what I can
Gotta spread the love and I gotta spread the peace
Got the positivity and then you got the keys
Now you living free
Now you living life
Like you know that everything and everybody always gonna be alright
Toodaloo to the things that you knew
Lemme tell you something, lemme tell you something true
All you gotta do
Is change the way that you been thinking
If you thinking about the negative your boat is always sinking
If you thinking bout' the telephone the telephone is ringing
Are you gonna pick it up
Are you reaching for the ceiling
Ring, ring, ring, on a onomatopoeia
When you swinging from the chandelier hanging out with Sia
Wouldn't wanna be ya
Visualizations got me on mine
Know where I'll be at like twenty-nine
Gonna break bread with the greatest
Buy momma a brand new Mercedes
Standing in front of a crowd of a million still making political statements
Like ohh look we made it
The way that I'm using my payments
Will never be about no enslavement
If ever I'm famous
I'm spending to save education
If that don't make me the most literal candidate to run the new school nation
Then I'm all out of patience

Oh snap, what a throwback
Backpack rapper mapping that soul map
Individual defending minimal intervals of continual cynicals
Gotta find a way to get the admirable optimism incentive though
Who the god that you praying to
Do you preach for the love and the freedom too?
Or you talking about the persecution
Like theres no solution
Except the one that you were given from the institution
That's wrong
Telling me that every single person with a different opinion
Ain't gonna make it to your heaven they gone
Lemme tell you this
If you gonna damn the gays
You gonna fight the jews
You gonna tell some muslims they aint right to do
What they been doing in they culture
Then forget you and your sofa
Dirty ass shoes on your couch
Better watch your mouth
Considering the fact that we going to the place
Where the labels don't matter
We can finally escape
All the things that really don't mean shit
Looking at the list
Hell is gonna be lit
Why can't we all get along
Been talking about this in like all of my songs
So proud of my dad
So proud of my mom
Cuz they are like oil and water
But still keep a bond
No matter what's happened how much you've been hurt
You can still make all this work
Make a decision and make it your mission to bring positivity into fruition
Start popping like pistons
Inside of an engine
And whip up that love
When you cook in the kitchen
Let's switch the condition
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Cal Combs
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Cal Combs

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