CunninLynguists, Chizuko, Yoshihiro - The Park lyrics
CunninLynguists [Deacon the Villain, Kno, Natti] Lexington, Kentucky, U.S. 🇺🇸
[CunninLynguists, Chizuko, Yoshihiro - The Park lyrics]
The park bout to pop like fish grease
Full to the gills like a hooked up six piece
With a biscuit
On the spot like a fresh toupee
For sunshine on a fresh blue day
Gents breaking out they fresh new
Jays to match hats
Ladies with their best doo laid and relaxed
Like, the children skippin rope
Double dutch chantin
Miss Mary Mack dressed in black
Hands clappin
Sweet Cadillacs with their backs sub slappin
Puppy love couples cuddled with
Their clothes matchin
Cops passin, harass and tail ya
Sometimes pull ya ass over just to tell ya
Our failures, amongst the rose and azalea
Y'all congregating like Martin King in Selma
Just trying to have a good
Time like James or Thelma
My cousin bangin 'Pac, my mama singin Mahalia
Feels good today, all the hood's dismay
Is outshined by what coming
Together could equate through my locs
See my Kynfolk that stood with me
Dayton's spokes
Crown on leather and wood display
My queens dressed for impression
That's God sendin blessin
Hot like the West End, Icebox on the FM
We need this, more than Playboy needs Hef and
More than your lungs need breaths of
Fresh air, what a day at the park
Fresh air, what a day at the park fresh air
Yo, it's getting cool but
The coal's still red
Stripes and Patron on chill, my folks all fed
Ladies, what it do? Fellas, what it is?
Oughta have a blue carpet for
The A's on the list
Got the bootleggers tryin to
Appraise me some shit
Like twenty dollars can put
Sunrays on my wrist
And fa sho', as hot sauce stays on my fish
On the ladies, playas gamin like live on 'em
DJ on the mic got the slide goin
Soul Train line moves like The Glide throwin
On the slow songs, grind
Put pine in the ozone
Find something fine to poke on
As the sun puts locs on, light is no mystery
Hickory smokes gone off the rotisserie
Physically grabbin all off in my nose cavity
Tiffany strut as her booty oppose gravity
How do I get her without her cold slappin me?
Have to be late in the park parkin lot
Where trunks knock a lot and weed spark a lot
In humidity scorchin hot
Will beef cook or rot?
Summer breeze in need like
Benji's and Jackson's
Instead pennies are stackin, coppers reactin
To how peoples relaxin in orderly fashion
If you holdin the rock
Then you ought to be passin
Cause they ain't playin
Got a cell you can stay in
Can this night go off right? I'm prayin
Please Lord, hear these words that I'm sayin
On this day can Angels party without Satan
Full to the gills like a hooked up six piece
With a biscuit
On the spot like a fresh toupee
For sunshine on a fresh blue day
Gents breaking out they fresh new
Jays to match hats
Ladies with their best doo laid and relaxed
Like, the children skippin rope
Double dutch chantin
Miss Mary Mack dressed in black
Hands clappin
Sweet Cadillacs with their backs sub slappin
Puppy love couples cuddled with
Their clothes matchin
Cops passin, harass and tail ya
Sometimes pull ya ass over just to tell ya
Our failures, amongst the rose and azalea
Y'all congregating like Martin King in Selma
Just trying to have a good
Time like James or Thelma
My cousin bangin 'Pac, my mama singin Mahalia
Feels good today, all the hood's dismay
Is outshined by what coming
Together could equate through my locs
See my Kynfolk that stood with me
Dayton's spokes
Crown on leather and wood display
My queens dressed for impression
That's God sendin blessin
Hot like the West End, Icebox on the FM
We need this, more than Playboy needs Hef and
More than your lungs need breaths of
Fresh air, what a day at the park
Fresh air, what a day at the park fresh air
Yo, it's getting cool but
The coal's still red
Stripes and Patron on chill, my folks all fed
Ladies, what it do? Fellas, what it is?
Oughta have a blue carpet for
The A's on the list
Got the bootleggers tryin to
Appraise me some shit
Like twenty dollars can put
Sunrays on my wrist
And fa sho', as hot sauce stays on my fish
On the ladies, playas gamin like live on 'em
DJ on the mic got the slide goin
Soul Train line moves like The Glide throwin
On the slow songs, grind
Put pine in the ozone
Find something fine to poke on
As the sun puts locs on, light is no mystery
Hickory smokes gone off the rotisserie
Physically grabbin all off in my nose cavity
Tiffany strut as her booty oppose gravity
How do I get her without her cold slappin me?
Have to be late in the park parkin lot
Where trunks knock a lot and weed spark a lot
In humidity scorchin hot
Will beef cook or rot?
Summer breeze in need like
Benji's and Jackson's
Instead pennies are stackin, coppers reactin
To how peoples relaxin in orderly fashion
If you holdin the rock
Then you ought to be passin
Cause they ain't playin
Got a cell you can stay in
Can this night go off right? I'm prayin
Please Lord, hear these words that I'm sayin
On this day can Angels party without Satan