Dear Summer lyrics

by

Birdman


[Intro]
Yeah, Suffix, people, yeah
You know
You, you, you already
Yeah, come on

[Verse]
Kickin rocks on the block, tellin all the OGs
"I be coming for your spot when you're not looking"

Hot cooking, momma got it on the kitchen table
I thank God we were always able to
Get the leather couch, big screen, cable too

Nintendo when them good grades came through
Then the cooked Ks came through
Some soft, some stepped-on, but we kept on
And I slept with the work plenty nights
Thought I heard n*ggas coming, thought I saw the cop lights but
I was dreaming, then I woke
The junkies was still fiending, and I had coke, so

I had hope; you may say that it's wrong
But I ain't talking to your child, I'm talking to this song

I'm just doing a buck down memory lane
If I crash, just pick up my brain

And yes, my n*ggas the same, but they quicker to bang
And if they do, then I'm the n*gga you blame
So I shoot first anyway, and I would do the honors any day
And tell your honor he a b*tch to his face
And whip through the state like I whip through the yay
Show your ass how to take four and get eight
And it don't take four n*ggas to get straight
The only hot boy eating off this plate, Young...
Weezy, baby, that's what ya b*tch say
Give her ass a location and a template
Show her how to work the interstate
Stop working with that thinner weight, get your brakes fixed
Stop playing, 'cause all we know is gunplay
Trip while you're full and my clip gon be emp-tay
When the stomachs get empty, anything's tempting
Ain't nobody safe when it's for the kids' sake
Hurricane wipe the south like a earthquake
We tryna save face, but we ain't got a place
To stay, so they made us evacuate
We on our way, pussies; relocate
Y'all know us when you see us, put your jewels up
Put your cars, put your clothes, put your shoes up
It's that serious, homie, pick the news up
It wasn't good, n*gga, think about the hood, n*gga
The people who ain't never had sh*t, ain't gon never have sh*t
Bullsh*t, 'cause they still gon try to manage
n*ggas doin anything, like, God gon' understand them
But please understand us, n*ggas with money lost mansions
n*ggas with nothing lost families
Lives lost in traffic
Water up to the attic, there goes the stashes

But a n*gga got passion
Even though the bounce-back seeming like Magic
sh*t, but call me Siegfried

Watch how I turn one key to a hundred Gs
Yeah, dear summer, summer breeze
Summer, please know I live for you
Throw on the wife-beater, let back the lid for you
A few years I'll prolly hear from you, but now I'm here for you
I know n*ggas that shed a tear for ya
Behind bars, tryna get to ya, they'll prol'ly never see you
It's that real talk if you ever heard it, homie
sh*t hurt so much, might have to hurt you, homie
No commercial, no fronting, no curve on it
No cut, tell life, "So what?"
The drought's here, not only white slowed up
The weed slowed up, we can't even roll up
f*ck, put a dent in the money, too
But that's the last thing, 'cause hustle is what we do
But hustle with what? How we getting on?
Where he sitting at? What he sitting on?
Stand up if you know it's true
The end of the world coming and my city the proof, damn
sh*t... And this is after disaster, this ain't rap, this a recap
Stepping off the G4, still strapped
Bust your head in the air, that's a sky-cap
Have my car pick me up where I arrive at
Drop the work off 'cause it don't go where I reside at
Garbage bags filled up with dollars
Dead presidents, gotta dump the bodies
Birdman, as long as we gon' eat
Then everybody eat off me
Feet off ground, fingers to the stars, reaching
And I'm a get death through these bars, believe me
I'm down for the cause, even
When everything paused, I proceeded
I'm a leader, me, the son of Jacida
f*ck the world, not the people, damn!
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