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Late Date Lyrics By The Parkays

    fashawn
    look in the mirror are you a reflection or an image
    a person or a persona real thing or a gimmick
    i hate when rappers get on the mic and act timid
    they must have never came in contact with a menace
    in the lab with the chemist loading up ammunition
    in my path for the listeners fans and the critics
    niggas out getting it trying to advance to a million
    and trying to their fam in positions
    where they aint gotta rap shoot hoops or pitch grams for a living
    0 gs to a hundred grand keep it consistent
    the exact definition of a man on a mission
    to take over the land expand demolition
    wonder how many syllables i can cram in this sentence
    like a general i command your attention
    i be killing em every stanza is venom
    in my bboy stance cant help but glance at a nigga

    the alchemist
    so in the summer im getting dumber
    doing my digits doing my numbers
    rappers are similar six are halfadozen are the other
    im custom cut control rock a windsuit and some timberlands
    touch the floor and guard my space til they carve my face
    in the side of a mountain like rushmore
    im prophetic doctor the drums with a medic
    could end up like im fresher than lettuce and get shredded
    im ready yo ill stand next to the sprinkler without getting wetted
    dont step in my circle no doubt get deaded
    serve em no cut like video footage without the edit
    emperor thinking what the fuck i need a pencil for
    when i could scrape the corners without a desert
    im a criminal into vandalism
    whoever want attention stomp em out and whoevers standing with em

    roc c
    im the linedeliverer used to be sinister
    six shots in the glock pop at your senator
    tend to be nice put a price on my own life
    then i thought about better off killing myself
    im the rhymeratcher gun packer
    ill bitch smack a nigga up then laugh after
    cold cash or back to dirty braids back to crime pays
    back on my parkay buddy or entrée
    im the bombay general strikes
    john forté moonwalk in on the court date the boys late
    puff puff pass to another date
    clock stopped tickin now guess thats my fate
    hold weight fornicator skate out the front door
    been smoking so long i know ill never overdose
    still petrol me im not
    tie em up leave a note at your spot like we need that

    4 oh no
    in the symphony orchestrated of course they hate it
    the forces foreign dangerous flow painting a picture
    off rhythmic movement move with music
    moods is muses dumbfound stupid nuisance
    new shit hang em like nooses til their brain part
    their nucleus im nuke em and show em we do this
    got no foolish focus i pray for my foes
    folks posted unnoticed near when the twins bolstered
    i get toasted and toasted bottles of moet
    then pour it out for my old set
    gangrene thats a threat on the globe
    verbal tech technicians herbal vet load the ammunition
    made them kill the ambition with this mans wisdom
    then gas and match in the brain more enlighten em
    pay attention or played attention
    yall lame yall rather play in the pain olympics uh

    Artist: The Parkays

    Year: 1961

    Decade: 60s

    Language: en

    Word Count: 338