Dave East – God Bless The Summer Lyrics

God Bless The Summer by Dave East
Feat. Vado
Released : 2018

If you owe that man, then pay that man
Look around, I stood my ground, niggas can’t say I ran
I was taught, somebody take something, you break his hand
And I was taught, you wanna make something? You take a chance
The way I see it, these niggas gon’ kill theyself
How the fuck you keepin’ it real? You ain’t real with yourself
Many night on the “Ocho”, duckin’ suckas and popo’
This Gucci without the logo
I don’t wear no Polo, I’m boujee now
I bring some women to bring some goonies out
They used to ask for credit, I dead it, like a root canal
I get back to that later, I’m in the booth for now
Pistol in your mouth gon’ do more than chip tooth your smile
Niggas I played basketball with, is shooters now
I did the highway with work, I know how a state troopers sound
It feel like they plotting to kill me
I’m out the way, they booked Meek for poppin’ a wheelie
Treat us like animals, but we get fly like the Air Force
I been on that Ace of Spades, these niggas on Smirnoff
Aim it at his head, and try to knock that nigga beard off
Skrrt, pull the Benz off, pay attention when men talk
Notice I said men
Dope like the Exorcist
I watched a fiend head spin, been hard to go to bed since
Blood splatter all in your car, leave you with red tint
Came up with a plan for this paper, been gettin’ bread since
Tyra said I should model, been gettin’ head since
They made a sweep, and my niggas been in the fed since
They came around askin’ questions, we never said shit
Gang squad started followin’, soon as I said Crip
I know they on my Instagram
Clap the heat, happy feet, you know them niggas ran
I don’t call niggas family, unless they really fam’
If a thousand don’t get ’em, I guarantee a milli’ can

Try to manage your vibe energy
A fake friend could do more damage than five enemies
When it’s chicken, it’s beef, like Fried Kennedy
Bring your instrument, we could have us a live symphony
In a tight alley, we be like [?]
Gunplay scenes, I squeeze like Mike Lowrey
All you see is sticks and signs, a light rally
Red track suit, new Swiss beat, white Bally’s
Real shit, your own men will hate
I don’t wanna hear you get dough, ‘if you don’t demonstrate
I’m tryin’ open the door, look like inner-space
5-6-0 with the chrome dinner plates
Get it straight, where I’m from, you had to get it
Be a man of your word, you couldn’t gaffle with it
I hit the scaffold with it, that brown bag, I hit it
Had ’em waiting in line like Yeezy, Raf tickets

I don’t call niggas family, ‘less they really fam’
I don’t call niggas family, ‘less they really fam’
I don’t call niggas family, ‘less they really fam’
I don’t call niggas family, ‘less they really fam’

This that Slime Flu, nigga
Got ’em all sick, like, ahh chuu, nigga
Coughing up blood, no Piru’
My crew something like Wu’ in ‘9-2, nigga
For the most case, I’m Ghostface
No trace on black sand, the boat place
I don’t care, I don’t chase
My circle got squares, you in no shape
It’s been quiet, fiends be gettin’ right
Like in L.A., for that yay’, I’m Len Bias
Let’s cop coke, and celebrate
Let East know, we set a date

When it come to that hammer, that shit ain’t never far
If it ain’t Gucci, it’s LSR, I’m very scarred
Traumatized, I seen shots and I been shot
I hired a driver, I paid him to make the Benz stop
Beef feel like war in ’92, I’m Mase in ‘9-8
I’m talking that bullshit, this might increase the crime rate
I’m posted like L on 39th
30 Crip, 30 grams, I hustled for 30 nights
That’s a whole month
Shoot ’em before he roll a whole blunt
Need the cash, we E-Z Pass, ain’t paid the toll once
Kick you in your mouth for them gold fronts
Harlem’s hero, no cold-cut
Belaire, we toast up

I don’t call niggas family, ‘less they really fam’
I don’t call niggas family, ‘less they really fam’

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