Dear Summer
I know you've missed me
I know you need me like Deja needs Frisky
Ask your girlfriend, as your cell-mate
I've been spitting fire since boys love girls days
And I've been about since day 1
You know I represent on the beat for the street to the beach
And I know it gets heated sometimes
And I have to roll with the heater sometimes
Believe me I'm just speaking, but its deeper than lines
Yout's out shoot-out deeper than Shyne
Every summer ain't a tune out deeper than mine
Fuck if my gun burst, I spit hot shit
My 16's get sunburns
So even when I rhyme every n***a can relate
If they're weaving in their rides
Or they're wheeling on a bike
I'm addicted to summer like a fiend that's on the pipe
That's why I ain't fucking with autumn
And I don't like drop tops because I can't fucking afford them
You see me in a Jeep, T.I with B
Listening to B.I.G and Styles P
Just tryna get them P's up
When you come around everybody's tryna get them G's up
Few can make the olders front in beamers
And you can't make Mikita look like Crisina
Milian when it gets chilly I'm
Constantly thinking of you in my arms
I ain't fucking with winter either
And I remember when I first you, cons and Fila's
No I'm old school like cocapina
Sarsaparilla and Kool-Aid
There's no match really
I'm naff naf and illy by lilly
Cool raps just really like Biggie
First things first I poppa
Squeeze and I'll pop ya
Jesus might leave you breathing I'll stop ya
One shot I'll leave you sleeping like vodka
I'm on the road like a car crash
I'm real, I'm road I'm tarmac
And yeah I'm hardback
Flip flops toes don't cover mine
But next year summertime
NY Hummer time
It's hot so you know dogs got the gun inside
Stipclubs, titrubs and chicks to come inside
So every year I drop a new style for you
A new CD, brand new styles for you
I'll even BA fly a thousand miles for you
I love you I'll probably walk down the aisle for you
You know I'm with you 100 percent, but yes
St. Anne's you was looking your best
I meet you in London looking depressed
All covered up, couldn't even look at your breasts
And yeah I'm fucking with you summer but I rubber up
Cos I had a fling with spring break and bust a nut
And yeah I'm fucking with you summer
But I need to know
Whats's up with you summer
How comes you got the young tugs bussing every summer
How come you make sure there's stress on the street
Then hit Napa sex on the beach
Whats up with that
Yo, KA, Beats & Bars
Home Sweet Home the album '05
And every summer after