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