paroles de chanson The Park (Blue Sky Black Death Remix) [Deluxe Edition] - Cunninlynguists

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