Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dear Summer, artist - Memphis Bleek. Album song 534, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Dear Summer |
Dear Summer, I know you gon' miss me |
For we been together like Nike Airs and crisp tees |
S dots with Polo fleeces |
Purple label shit with the logo secret |
Gimme couple years, shit I might just sneak in |
A couple words and like Peaches & Herb |
We’ll be reunited and it feels so hood |
Have the whole world saying «How you still so good?» |
Well I do this in my slumber, Summer |
I ain’t none of these half-assed newcomers |
You know how I do, Summer |
I drop heat, when you bring the sun up |
The combo make niggas act up, I pick the gun up |
Niggas back up; |
they know I’m not no fronter |
I don’t talk SHIT, I just flip it Un ya |
Sorry Lance, I’m just trying to advance my quotes |
I ain’t making you the butt of my jokes |
But let’s not stray from what I came to say |
To my beloved, think we need some time away |
They say if you love it, you should let it out its cage |
And fuck it, if it comes back, you know it’s there to stay |
It’s tugging, at my heart, but this time apart is needed |
From the public, who should’ve gave me the Pulitz' |
Instead gave me they ass to kiss |
But you know me, thugging 'til the casket dips |
But still shine light down on all my peers |
I know they weird… some queer, I still want them to share |
In all the success I received, I know you can’t believe |
I still love 'em but they don’t love me |
They like the drunk uncle in your family |
You know they lame, you feel ashamed |
But you love em the same |
It’s like when niggas make subliminal records |
If it ain’t directed directly at me, I don’t respect it |
You don’t really want it with Hov, for the record |
I put a couple careers on hold, you could be next, kid |
Keep entering the danger zone |
You gon' make that boy Hov put your name in a song |
If you that hungry for fame, motherfucker, c’mon |
Say when, take ten paces and spin |
But on another note, 'bout to take another vacay |
On another boat, goddamn, a motherfucker wrote |
His way out the hood, and I pray that I stay out for good |
But any day you know a nigga could |
Try and play like he Suge, then I gotta play like Dutch Schultz |
You pass the dutchie, I blast you, trust me |
Niggas can’t fuck with me |
I’m in a good mood, you lucky, I got a good groove |
And I ain’t trying to fuck my thing up |
But I will lay down a couple green bucks, get you cleaned up |
Non-Pulp Fiction, Colt four-fifth and |
Young niggas that blast for me, no religion |
Listen here, Summer, baby |
I just believe it’s the right thing to do |
I got a brand new bitch, Corporate America |
She showing me a lot of action right now |
And I know you put me on my feet and all, but |
I mean, it’s time for me to grow |
You gotta let me go baby, you gotta let me go |
I’m done for now, so one for now |
Possibly forever, we had fun together |
But like all good things, we must come to an end |
Please show the same love to my friends |
Dear Summer |