DESCRIPTION:
Hey guys i know its been awhile since i did one of these one take rap videos so i wanted to drop one inspired by 'pop-up videos' from VH1 back in the day! lyrics are down below!

Produced by: @dukewestlake Shot and Edited by: @gradyshon Light/Grip by: Yev Belilovskiy

Lyrics:

Hi haters, im back from a hiatus,
don't know what my name is then spotify later,
Im a pro, yous a prototype all your rhymes beta,
You rappers undecided like a poli sci major,

been readin novels as big as bibles, in different genres,
From murikamis to how to cultivate marijuana,
been eatin better from chicken burgers to parmagiana,
They never loved us now they try to put their arm around us,

No baby mamas and no debt, im a fuckin problem,
got a bitch that's mad rich in La Canada,
rumor has it that her daddy own siracha,
if its ever out of business, I aint ever have to stock up,

back up, yea parker be the name
mothafuckas try to put me in a marketable lane,
you can take all that bullshit to Barcelona, Spain,
im the head matador around these parts, it's the K,

town that is, renown that is,
got the baddest down yellow bitches around, ya dig,
I might buy you cris, but that about it,
might light your cig, but that about it,

been goin in, straight underdog,
one nation, under god fuck a blog,
I seen too many rappers try to suck em off,
but not jon, got my own dot com,

so iconic, with a flow like god,
they should have my statue on Vermont boulevard,
got a gang of broads, that look like nia long,
that cook like lil b and fuck like bella donna,

pop pills the next morning its ox tail,
hot pots with smells that leave the block filled,
got Asian homies that sell rock and rock grills,
and still helpin at the shop that there pops built,

that side hustle there moma don't really know about , nah
she don't question as long as the envelope is out,
deliver money to her door, like the clearing house,
now that's a good son, something she can brag about,

Harvard, Princeton, berekely and Stanford,
Booked in the top schools im loved by the chancellors,
Came from the junkyard, Asian son of Sanford,
I raised these kids now they raise em like the panthers,

I aint sayin im a pioneer,
But I aint sayin that im not,
I was raised in the riot years, 92,
While it was quiet on your block,

You drive in a Passat, while Biting your croissant,
Relying on your pops, to supply you with the guap,
Your life is a ficade you's a trustfund baby,
You aint on the list, you a plus one maybe,

Catch me, wining and dining at line hotel,
Pretty servers with the stripes lookin fine as hell,
The homie roy, treat me like a top clientele,
You know that's family, he never let me buy my meals,

On some goodfellas shit, Got hood yellow kids,
Lookin up to a brother like he leads fellowships,
you wanna hear a speech to achieve excellence,
But my outreach I just tell em do as you wish,

Use intuition and lose inahbitions,
My major and minor were two intersections,
my Professors are locked up or doped up,
the ones we idolized now toast us,

used to chill at shatto park,
now im at chateau marmont,
came a long way nowI'm on,
yo I'm back but for now I'm gone,