Lyrics Summer Breeze - DJ Quik

Summer Breeze

Now even though I was only a young buck, I was still trying to kick it
Having a gang of fun and much too young to be wicked
Cause when I was thirteen you know we didn’t have cars
It was either double ride the peg nuts or hop on the handle bars
And then we went and bought a gang of balloons and had
A water balloon fight that lasted until the night
Then after that we played some «Hide and Go Get It»
With the neighborhood homegirls dumb enough to be with it
All in fun and games and keeping it cool
But my my, when you’re kicking it, time flies by
Cause every hour’s a minute, and every minute’s a sec
And if I’d came home late, my moms would ring my neck, yeah
But I regret not them whoopings I got
Cause to be able to play the next day was okay
On a mission, to hit up the neighbor’s fruit trees
Just a bunch of kids chillin', enjoying the summer breeze
Summer breeze, flowing like the wind
Boy you need to know that you got a friend
And I’ll always be here (I'll always be here)
Now I’m growing some fuzz, getting older like 17 or 18
And the only thing I know is to stay clean
T-shirt, short pants, Nikes on spotless
I was even old enough to buy me a Cutlass
Or a vehicle to ride around town, flirt with the hoes and
Roll down the window and mack to the one who’s chosen
Yo, them biker pants look kinda right on you
My name is DJ Quik and my homies is having a barbeque
Before I finish my whole sentence complete
Yo she was off the bus stop and in my passenger seat
And we was sliding to the Westside, stopped at the store
To get some Boones Farm because that make 'em kick it a little more
And at the spot, you know that chicken was kicking
The pig on the grill, and so the day was chill
But that night, my girl was tipsy and was ready to skeeze
But I didn’t even trip, too busy jocking the summer breeze
Now I’m 23 and I remember the times when
We was chillin' like villians and didn’t have no nines
Like when we used to mob to beaches to kick it and swim
Now I hang around and watch the tides come in
And I’m thinking how many funerals I’ve been to
Watching all my homies get buried in them boxes they put 'em into
And then I read a letter from upstate
From my homie G-Wayne, who’s been locked up since '87, '88
And it really ain’t nothing fly about it
So either I’mma stay strong or break down and simply cry about it
And when it seem like things just ain’t gon be right
I gotta thank my creator for letting me sleep last night
And waking me up in the morning because I shudder to think
That that could be me dead or locked away in the clink
So I’m lifting my homie’s spirits as tall as the trees
And I can even hear him calling me, in the summer breeze