Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Summertime, artist - clipping..
Date of issue: 09.06.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Summertime |
Set’s up high, bitches and whips topless |
No ceilings, they pitchin' that Helen Mirren |
It’s summer, that pot stick (pot stick) |
Block burning, G’s banging on the beach |
White tees, no socks shit |
Palm tree on lean, bass rocks with the knock |
Every cockpit bumpin' that Pac on the stock system |
Rattlin' but battle ready cause they got the heavy metal |
To handle for the fed he watchin' |
Watch it, everybody observe the color of the block where they walkin' |
Watch how they walkin', see her at the payphone code talkin' |
She got them eyes, shorts, thighs thick, pussy poppin' |
So the lay of the block maintain as long everybody play they role, if not |
Try to step on somebody else’s line, but when they do |
A critic quick to put a clip in a nine |
A motherfucker will die in the summertime |
Low nose clown on they pogo bounce when they slow-mo round |
Make the hoes go down, homies smoke that loud 'til they choke fall out |
And they run they mouth, what they don’t know might end 'em |
Cause them women so fine in the summertime |
Turn a six to a dime in the summertime |
Motherfuckers still die in the summertime |
It happens all the time in the summertime |
Hold the liquor, it’s an avalanche comin' |
A Cali nigga flooded in ice and quite stunnin' |
And who wouldn’t believe the West Coast brung 'em |
When the rest start runnin' when my set start gunnin' |
I came to represent for the Liquid Empire |
The Lexus squire with about six friars |
Been a minute since I lit a nigga on fire |
And I won’t stop rockin' 'til ya nigga expire |
I-a gut the mic with the negative hype |
Any steelo will fashion, I’m a negative type |
Write whatever you like, starts day into night |
Paragraphin' how you have it, I be crashin' your sight |
As a treat, I’ll eat all beef and gripes |
Toss up you niggas tryin' to peel my stripes |
Killas don’t fright but hold up, here’s the truth |
Summer turn cold when the crown hits the booth, nigga |
Low nose clown on they pogo bounce when they slow-mo round |
Make the hoes go down, homies smoke that loud 'til they choke fall out |
And they run they mouth, what they don’t know might end 'em |
Cause them women so fine in the summertime |
Turn a six to a dime in the summertime |
Motherfuckers still die in the summertime |
It happens all the time in the summertime |
Dice game, rice rocket, pipe laying, sidewalkin' |
Eyes, drankin' wine, talkin' (?) (Right?) |
Price payin', eye sockets, dry makin', fire lockin' |
Fly paper skyrockets, scare residentials |
Donuts in the cul-de-sac, photos at the intersection |
Show 'em that Corona’s back, flipping off the pigs and |
Breaking mirrors cause he own it jack |
And he on about half a pill and he don’t wanna yack |
So he keep it rollin' like that dice game |
Homies talk shit, Andrew Dice Clay |
Homies take shifts watching vice playing nice like they ain’t narcs |
Roll a seven, guns spark, dogs bark, dial nine-eleven |
Cars parked ring alarms, homies stop bettin' just for a second |
Then started up again like resurrection, then count their blessings |
Stop rubberneckin', you lookin' sweeter than confection, pause |
Laugh it off or get a weapon |
Low nose clown on they pogo bounce when they slow-mo round |
Make the hoes go down, homies smoke that loud 'til they choke fall out |
And they run they mouth, what they don’t know might end 'em |
Cause them women so fine in the summertime |
Turn a six to a dime in the summertime |
Motherfuckers still die in the summertime |
It happens all the time in the summertime |