Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song P.A.R.T.Y, artist - Lack Of Afro. Date of issue: 19.12.2013
Song language: English
P.A.R.T.Y |
| While you aim to maintain the status quo |
| Embody the persona of the average joe |
| Me and Herbal T and the Lack of Fro are less rational |
| We international |
| To reiterate in case you’re a little late |
| I incinerate fakes on my dinner plate |
| We hungry, but ya’ll gon' starve the hardest |
| Cause we stay well fed eating starvin' artists |
| I’m a veteran authority better than the majority |
| Of all the mothafuckas that ever been in the door of the industry |
| I’m what you pretend to be |
| Half of you mothafuckas sound like shit to me |
| That’s why I have no sympathy |
| That’s why I take a shit in your stocking, and burn down your Christmas tree |
| Poof, you’re done, ya’ll history |
| I’m the truth behind the unsolved mystery |
| I’m the epitome of victory |
| Instinctively, I rip emcees |
| And spit the remains out, all over the floor |
| It’s Big Wax mothafucka thought I told you before |
| I’m on a whole different level than ya’ll, leveling ya’ll |
| Like a medicine ball, hitting you dead in the jaw |
| We ready to brawl, you delicate soft, you gon' lose it |
| Herbal T ride the mic and get stupid |
| Learn to be original |
| Herbs an individual |
| Nerds, are typical hypocritical pitiful minimal |
| Impact makers, get to back breaking |
| Hard work it takes to get to that place |
| Where you can do whatever you want and still kill it |
| Pass your prescription bottle and we’ll fill it |
| Up with the true party music from the soul ya’ll |
| Wax, Herbal T, LOA, is the roll call |
| I thought I told ya’ll not to press your luck |
| Like tentacles of an octopus, you suck |
| Straight trash, throw your CD in a waste basket |
| Or I’mma cover your mouth with tape fast |
| And pipe down your shitty talk |
| Them brothers fly like Orville and Wilbur right down to Kitty Hawk |
| And just when ya’ll assholes thought that ya’ll was on top |
| Lack of Afro brought that |
| Fall back when he lay the drum track |
| The bass on the joint on point like a thumbtack |
| Crews come whack cause some lack the focus |
| And if they fall off a come back it’s hopeless |
| Unpack the dopeness stored in my brain |
| Dear lord I’m insane |
| If you a dope fiend put my microphone cord in your vein |
| And soon you’ll be high like you’re boarding a plane |