Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Summer of Sam, artist - Demigodz. Album song Killmatic, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 04.03.2013
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
The Summer of Sam |
| Hey yo pump up the jam, it’s the summer of Sam |
| I got a pen in my hand, scribbling a pentagram |
| I’m the founding forefather, Masonic book author |
| Midnight marauder that’s harder than Sergeant Slaughter |
| Graphic novelist, Frank Miller, serial killer |
| Drive tanks through your metropolis, I simply think iller |
| My cold flows make you shiver like zombies in Thriller |
| Mike jack move, we demigodzillas |
| Hey yo I’m slicker than Zorro, Nicky Santoro |
| Rhymes sharp enough to split a man at his torso |
| Operation omega, searching every bodega |
| Looking for the Doe Raker, Demigod soul takers |
| It’s ya boy Big Motive, DGZ |
| Flow’s a deadly poison, BBD |
| But far from Mike Bivins, the god is trife livin' |
| Might run up in your crib to rob with night vision |
| It’s the (son of Sam) |
| So pull the trigger tight my friend |
| And them bullets will go right to your chin |
| Malfunction 'cause I modified the firing pin |
| Sabotage anybody who conspire to win |
| I’m sniping 'em man… |
| Ryu, my mama call me Ryan Maginn |
| The son of Randal and Sam is my Siamese twin |
| We rubber gripping the summer |
| Banana clip if you slippin' |
| I put that 100 round drum in |
| And light your house up like Christmas |
| Ugh |
| Pump! |
| Pump the jam! |
| This is summer of Sam, run around with a gun in my hand |
| So just pump it, just pump it, just pump it, just pump it up |
| Pump! |
| Pump the jam! |
| This is summer of Sam, run around, .44 in my hand |
| So just pump it, just pump it, just pump it, just pump it up |
| Ap’s feared like Blackbeard appeared in your telescope |
| You could see the city burn and you smell the smoke |
| See me rocking a mask like a lucha libre |
| Walk up during your set and shoot your DJ |
| Knife fight, chess box, black and white squares |
| Throw spears that’s sharper than Rothstein in the Tangiers |
| New school fake thugs squeeling like old stairs |
| I throw slugs that’ll end your careers |
| I’ve reinvented the category for rappers that battle gory |
| I’m all heart, Tony Stark invest in my laboratory |
| And finding me smack dab right next to a black lab |
| They saying Eso kill 'em all and put 'em in trash bags |
| Every verse I spit I’m trying to murder shit |
| Till the Summ' of Mas like I’m David Berkowitz |
| Listen, I’m on a mission to fill in the void missin' |
| 'Cause any track I touch: needing a mortician |
| Jealousy and envy lurk so since I might be shot |
| My car got bulletproof glass like the Chinese spot (what!?) |
| Me and Sheila feeling Sharon sharin' at The Sheraton |
| You might stay holding the crown but I’m wearing it |
| Yeah, you can’t tell if a freedom fighter’s a terrorist |
| 'Cause my closet kinda resemble TI Harris' |
| Choppers on the floor, cash stuffed in Louie luggage |
| So I ain’t even gotta act tough: the Uzi does it |
| Pump! |
| Pump the jam! |
| This is summer of Sam, run around with a gun in my hand |
| So just pump it, just pump it, just pump it, just pump it up |
| Pump! |
| Pump the jam! |
| This is summer of Sam, run around, .44 in my hand |
| So just pump it, just pump it, just pump it, just pump it up |