| Why can I hear nothing in my headphones?
|
| I like that shit, yeah
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| Got my body right 'cause that weather gettin' hot
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| There’s a thousand woman out of here, don’t blow up the spot
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| It’s summer in my city, now somebody gettin' shot (Wait, what?)
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| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
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| Still Jamaica sippin', chili powder on my mangos (Yeah)
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| Smokin' big boosa, bitch, count up my bank roll (Count it up)
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| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| DJ played that classic Dono Ma, baby, come throw that ass
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| Geeked up off some dirty white, I ain’t talkin' trailer trash
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| Last time you felt somethin' like this, fresh prince was with that Jazzy Jeff
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| Another summer, black out drunk, okay, baby, we closed the Devil
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| Why you kill my vibe? |
| (Vibe)
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| Tequila’s squirtin' lime (Lime)
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| I might let you lick the rip, place your bets, I’m gone' lick
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| Show some skin, you got more flavors than the
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| On this Cleopatra Jones, you ain’t never need a pharoah, arrow to the heart,
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| your cup is overflowing with sangria (Yeah)
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| Bikini top with baggy jeans, oh, you think you a Leo or Selena
|
| Need a sky a Trina, Ivy Queen, Adidas, bro
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| Seen you at the Lock and Key with all your friends, I need 'em all
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| Hola, olie, don’t you know, we not the one to play
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| This ain’t cuffin' season, this that get some money in L. A
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| Hola, olie, don’t you know, we not the one to flex
|
| This ain’t cuffin' season, this that fuck somebody in they necks
|
| Got my body right 'cause that weather gettin' hot
|
| There’s a thousand woman out of here, don’t blow up the spot
|
| It’s summer in my city, now somebody gettin' shot (Wait, what?)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| Still Jamaica sippin', chili powder on my mangos (Yeah)
|
| Smokin' big boosa, bitch, count up my bank roll (Count it up)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| Fresh fruit, diced up
|
| Soft skin, mental health
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| Triple-digit heat, lookin' fly, but we live in hell (Hell)
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| You off mojitos and mimosas toasted at the brunch (Yeah)
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| I’m at the after-hours smokin' blunts, they filled with lust
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| Dawn to dusk and back again, tattoo on her abdomen
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| Ignoring half the men approaching 'til she wanna cash them in
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| Now, what’s the point of Sunday parties sippin' fruit today?
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| We bounce to different countries when that weather start to change
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| Name a better price, I could name about fifty
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| I would point 'em out to you but you’d never be there with me
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| You got one girl, well, I had about fifty
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| 'Til the vatos with the burners and the function started trippin'
|
| Hola, olie, don’t you know, we not the one to play
|
| This ain’t cuffin' season, this that get some money in L. A
|
| Hola, olie, don’t you know, we not the one to flex
|
| This ain’t cuffin' season, this that fuck somebody in they necks
|
| Got my body right 'cause that weather gettin' hot
|
| There’s a thousand woman out of here, don’t blow up the spot
|
| It’s summer in my city, now somebody gettin' shot (Wait, what?)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| Still Jamaica sippin', chili powder on my mangos (Yeah)
|
| Smokin' big boosa, bitch, count up my bank roll (Count it up)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some)
|
| Where you from? |
| (Where you from?)
|
| Get you some (Get you some) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mango Summer, artist - Speak. Album song A Man + His Plants, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп