CunninLynguists & Big Rube
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists & Devin The Dude
CunninLynguists & Witchdoctor & Phonte
CunninLynguists &
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists & Sheisty Khrist
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists & Club Dub
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
CunninLynguists
(Verse 1)
(Natti:)
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 Marry Mack dressed in black hands clappin
Sweet Cadillacs with their back sub slappin
Puppy love couples, cuddled with their clothes matchin
Cops passin harrass and tail ya
Sometimes pull your ass over just to tell ya
(Verse 2)
(Deacon:)
Our failures, amongst the rose and azalea
Yall 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 hoods dismay
Is outshined by what coming together could equate
Through my locs, see my Kynfolk that stood with me
Daytons spokes, crown on leather and wood displays
My queens dressed for impressin, that's God sendin blessins
Hot like the West End, Icebox on the FM
We need this, more than Playboy needs Hef and
More that your lungs need breaths of
(Hook)
Fresh air what a day at the park..
(3x)
(Verse 3)
(Deacon:)
It's getting cool but the coals 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 laides playin gamin like live on em
DJ on the mic got the slide going
Soul Train line moves like the glide throwin
On the slow songs grind put pine in the ozone
Find something fine to poke on
(Verse 4)
(Natti:)
As the sun puts Locs on, night is no mystery
Hickory smokes gone off the rotissirie
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 parking lot
Where trunks knock alot and week spark alot
In humidity scorchin hot will beef cook or rot?
Summer breeze in need like Benjis and Jacksons
Instead pennies are stackin, coppers reactin
To how people relaxing in orderly fashion
If you holding the rock then you oughta be passin
Cause they ain't playin, gotta cell you can stay in
Can this night go off right, I'm prayin
Please Lord here these words that I'm sayin
On this day can angels party without satan