home Money came in slow Getting high running Wild thought was all i'll ever know me and mum up in the council flat I had to save us One bedroom for the both of us
wait For cars to carry us away Like once in this storm, they drove me and Justin home The music was just being born It was all I was longing for Now
to wheel me past an ice cream wagon One side for White and one side for Colored I remember trash cans floatin' down Canal Street It rained every day one summer
for you punk mothafuckas Get played like some dicks who try to start ruckas I'm a real gun busta so don't ever try to rush us Can't nobody touch us
in vein In a desert praying for rain The music's like a drug, and they tend to take it to vein It ain't for the well-behaved The soundtrack for when you
all night) that's famous for her tits Not that tall doofy chick in your hood called Snitch Come on! [Lord Superb] Bentleys for sharp shoes Similac, Huggies
seem colder in your summer time and Hotter in your fall? If we were made in his image then Call us by our names Most intellects do not believe in God but They fear us
first for you touch us He one that's kicking our brothers Much as I smoke the duchess and model chicks that cut us And motherfuckers that love us Their
back in yo Cadillac Let me jump in this shit like back to back Stay real for life, roll down south For the wreckshop, for the hometown crowd My alias
rhymin the blues Thats the term when the whole town lose See something you better say something Cause saving something aint worth sayin nothing [verse 2] Genocide on us
pros can "Yo, is this your man?" "No" Grab the bitch's hand "I'm Hittman", bling, gold chain gleam "You're very eligible for my summer league team"
anybody by the right would see us songs were long and polution strong, and the faygo always warm and flat (thats nasty) but if now if this supposed to be heaven for
't like the way he spent his money on promos T-shirts and money to make room for logos He thought he wasn't appreciated, Midwest side depreciated Gone for the summer
, Heatmakerz, Jones, Santana, Freekey, The Union Holla at da boys, man, this is Diplomat Records, man Ya'll can't fuck wit us, we can go to war for years
if Queens was a Craig Jenny Instead of diet plans it's crack 200 grams I pump a G-pack, peeping for where the D's at It's slow, lookin' for Rambo, the
, world is ending this way That's why I stay so close to the action A parade just for my satisfaction 'Cause no one knows the reason for giving us Summer
time, Thug rollers with rhymes Gotta look out for the spineless, marchin' with mines Outlawz on the grind, in the back of my mind Gotta watch out for
It's time for something It's time for change It's time to get things re-arranged Oh, yeah The summer heat Has been getting me And last summer's love