| Summer, summer, summer time
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| Summer, summer, summer time
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| Summer, summer, summer time
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| Well listen Summer time in the city
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| Now niggas ride around town, for another sounds, look before the smithy
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| And even on ball courts, you got the shorties watchin fellas
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| Doin anythings on they baggy shorts
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| And kids is having fun in the park
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| But there’s a limit, moms says you best to be home before dark
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| Now we all know the flavor, were back on the black moms
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| Chattin with the next door neighbour sayin «Hi»
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| The folks that don’t ride
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| Her hands on the floor head cuz the sun keeps gettin in the rock
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| Little kids in sweaty suits, with niggas like Lost Boyz
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| Strictly t-shirts or the boots
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| Standin on the van with, I’m wavin at chicks
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| Takin food from the vooda, and sips from the Mystics
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| Lex, coups, beemers and benz
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| Niggas hangin with they man makin hits
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| We bouncin in the city
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| Summer, summer, summer time (summer time in the city)
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| In every borough there’s a crew
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| Of niggas smokin blunts and drinkin brew
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| Cuz that’s the way that us niggas do
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| With Newports in the ear, playin concrete sports
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| And shorties walk around in daisy dukes shorts, bounce
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| The would be throwin jams in the park
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| When the buddha is sparked, they get together after dark
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| GG and G tapes are bangin, it’s strictly Spigg Nice
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| And that hat black, when me and my niggas are sayin
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| I’m given beats to my peeps when I pass through
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| In 89, cuz them shorties smoke grass too
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| To make a avenue, somethin in god rule
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| 40 be, that is lee, agent I too
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| And to my peoples on the rock
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| 132 142, yeah that’s the rock
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| See Queens niggas do they thing
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| Champagne and rings don’t hold shit
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| Bang real niggas hang in the city
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| It’s about 98 degrees, everybodies gettin cheese
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| And a downy in my round, spit is walk around in dungaries
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| When new burgers got a lot around the corner
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| See a shorty and you want, now you best to push up on her, right?
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| I lay my act, slick sleen back, 40 ounce down south
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| Bounce bounce like that
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| Smokin charm as we creep thru the streets
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| Lost Boyz, they bites and they eat meats
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| They blues, no socks, short skirts, t-shirts, red Reebok
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| Shorty bouncin with friends
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| 3 piece, bbs, cloned out on the Benz
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| I wanna hit in the car, how them skins feel
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| Shorty with the ribbon in the windshield
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| So one two, this is how we do
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| Summer time, Lost Boyz comin thru in the city |