Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song My Own Parade , by - ¡MAYDAY!. Song from the album Mursday, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 09.06.2014
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
My Own Parade |
| Momma always said, «I was her favorite mistake» |
| Poppa said, «I made it», and he’s fuckin' amazed |
| My sister begging me to get her friends backstage |
| Got a key to the city, and a street in my name |
| (I think I need my own parade |
| I think I need my own parade) |
| The club that wouldn’t let me in back in the days |
| Now the same motherfucker, where they beg me to play |
| They said I was a sinner, now they giving me praise |
| Got a key to the city, and a street in my name |
| (I think I need my own parade |
| I think I need my own parade) |
| It’s MursDay baby and don’t it sound so crazy? |
| Come on and hop up on the bandwagon |
| Grown men for the win no pants sagging |
| It’s an All-Souls Processional |
| Ain’t no question we true rap professionals |
| I gotta smash on the radio, feeling so perennial |
| Feet on the couch while we talking to arsenio |
| Vixen from the video, calling me Emilio |
| Burning up a dab while she say she cooking my cereal |
| MursDay killing this shit we need our own parade |
| I’ma park this float out front and let the speakers play |
| We let the speakers play |
| Until the tweeters are leaking liters of senoritas |
| Sweet enough to ease the pain |
| Cause you know we gon' slay |
| You need a ticket just to kick it, with the sickness |
| I be sippin', stickin' meter maids |
| So get up and get off your damn barstool |
| MD’s leading the march, the grand marshals |
| You seen us on Youtube with tubas fam |
| Ain’t no questioning who’s who or who’s the man |
| Was hoping that you dudes would understand |
| Ain’t no groupies just good dudes with true fans |
| You need a huge band when you got huge plans |
| To play your theme music and set the mood, damn |
| I think I need my own parade |
| I think I need my own parade |
| Spoils for the winners |
| Comps for the dinners |
| Drinks on the house |
| Toast to the heavy hitters |
| Got a tub full of Guinness |
| And some stars for my ninjas |
| A billion for my business |
| By the time a player finish |
| I’ll be damned if I ain’t in track to fill a trophy case |
| Hungry for success too long and now I gotta taste |
| And you can see my ego in orbit way out in outer space |
| Brand new Nikes on my feet with automatic lace |
| Most of the time I’m movin' Off The Wall |
| Type of dude to stop mid verse because I got a call (phone rings) |
| What’s up girl? |
| Ya momma said it’s time to come home to show her |
| How to put our new album up on her iPhone |
| And I clone billions of better vibes in my tone |
| Checks up in my mailbox, jack up in my time zone |
| Wrek comes expect domination |
| MursDay, we’re like a never-ending necknomination |
| Stacking up the shots for the sport and the fashion |
| Now that’s what the fuck I call a chain reaction |
| Made the top of the food chain |
| All without new chains |
| Bump in the budget |
| Cuz the shit we make is butane |
| Hits for all my hitters |
| Villas for all my Gorrillas |
| Dancing with only Shakiras |
| While our enemies all fear us |
| I’mma have the whole city offline and |
| Marching at my pace |
| Hang on every line that I rhyme like monkeys in a cage |
| I think I need my own parade |
| I think I need my own parade |