Summer

[Verse 1: London Jae]
We gon' do this all summer, word to palm trees
Wipe the sweat off with them hundreds, check that summer breeze
Put them Phantoms up, bring out them old school
Switch up them paint jobs, take off them old shoes
We gon' do this all summer, word to palm trees
Wipe the sweat off with them hundreds, check that summer breeze
Put them Phantoms up, bring out them old school
Switch up them paint jobs, take off them old shoes
Now let me pray for these fuck niggas
Turn it up!
We gon' do this all summer, word to palm trees
Wipe the sweat off with them hundreds, check that summer breeze
Put them Phantoms up, bring out them old school
Switch up them paint jobs, take off them old shoes
Beef up the motors, LT-1, my shit straight out a 'Vette
Pull up on me in traffic, I'll race you for that check
Pull up at the red light, go
Got them sneaks on the back so that bitch sit low
Thirty grand for the paint, AC blow snow
Call my whip Black Rob, had them hoes like, "Woah"
Cashin' out, never cashin' in
Tired of livin' same bag that the cash be in
Got the ho goin' crazy, fuck you, pay me
Summer on the way, so why the fuck you hatin'?
And I'ma kill this summer, word to mama
And I put that on my motherfuckin' gunners, I'm a stunter
These bitches love me, they say I do too much
But I just crack a smile, bitch, I don't do enough
True story, you heard it here first
And by the time the summer hit you gotta know this verse

[Chorus: London Jae]
(I'ma kill this summer) Foreign car, 911 Panamera
Aston Martin, Bugatti coupe
All kinda shit (Man, I'ma kill this summer)
Big diamonds, Audemar
No stones in my Chopard
Hundred grand, could've bought a car (I'ma kill this summer)
Designer clothes, True Religion, newer Gucci
YSL, Dolce G on my feet (Man, I'ma kill this summer)
Overseas, the UK, Dubai (Yeah)
Cayman Islands, Australia
Can't believe (I'ma kill this summer)

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Biggie need that Jaguar, aka that fast car
Aka that NASCAR, aka that drag car
My rap name is Young Thug
I'm takin' the trade to be a Blood
My blunts are like two dubs
Put 'em out, the roaches like bugs
*DJ Swamp Izzo runs it back 2x*
Wrecked the Benz, it wasn't rented, ho
Specs on my face too tinted, ho
Kick this shit like Liu Kang, aka Lieutenant, ho
Joc in this bitch with me, he jock in this bitch with me (Yeah)
And if you want them birds, I got a (Flock of them, they with me)
No cops and rich niggas is my icons
I'm not a African, but if you need bricks, bitch, I can
Come back to you like the back of you
And back to you, now I'm after you
And if you order more we'll feed you rabbit food

[Chorus: London Jae]
(I'ma kill this summer) Foreign car, 911 Panamera
Aston Martin, Bugatti coupe
All kinda shit (Man, I'ma kill this summer)
Big diamonds, Audemar
No stones in my Chopard
Hundred grand, could've bought a car (I'ma kill this summer)
Designer clothes, True Religion, newer Gucci
YSL, Dolce G on my feet (Man, I'ma kill this summer)
Overseas, the UK, Dubai (Yeah)
Cayman Islands, Australia
Can't believe (I'ma kill this summer)

[Verse 3: London Jae]
[?] and my top gone
Got a pint of lean plus I'm on Patron
Got a bad bitch and a wife at home
Gettin' crazy dome while I'm on the phone
Private flights, G6
Flyin' overseas, got me seasick
Cold heart, never trust a bitch
Got a cold wrist, cold six
Forty-five, born to live, live to die
Summertime got a new coupe, no roof
Carbon fiber, bullet proof
Paid in Full like rich or poor
Got bricks of blow, buy sixty more
I'm on my grind and that's real spit
Man, I'm on my shit, bitches on my dick
Designer frames on my face
Can't see you niggas, I'm outer space
Panoramic views, where my ceiling at?
In the penthouse where we chillin' at
I'm from Zone Three, Cleveland Ave
Nigga, fuck you if you ain't feelin' that
Got a lot of hoes, a lot of clothes
Too many fans, I do a lot of shows
Got a lot of paper, fuck the haters
Ten grand in the club, ain't nothin' major
Do what I want everyday
Fuck plenty groupies, I'm London Jae
Got the top spot, the world mine
The city mine, I'm on time
Now that's what I call a hell of a summer

[Chorus: London Jae]
(I'ma kill this summer) Foreign car, 911 Panamera
Aston Martin, Bugatti coupe
All kinda shit (Man, I'ma kill this summer)
Big diamonds, Audemar
No stones in my Chopard
Hundred grand, could've bought a car (I'ma kill this summer)
Designer clothes, True Religion, newer Gucci
YSL, Dolce G on my feet (Man, I'ma kill this summer)
Overseas, the UK, Dubai (Yeah)
Cayman Islands, Australia
Can't believe (I'ma kill this summer)