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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes
Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » B » Black Sheep
Summa Tha Time - текст песни



Summa Tha Time


(feat. Emage)




[Hook: Black Sheep (Emage)]


We like blowing up the spot


(Summa the time)


We're known for fronting, not


(Summa the time)


We give our shows all we got


Wreck the stage and lots play us


Like the sun because we’re hot, hot




[Dres]


It's Black Sheep, beep-beep, everybody on your feet


Catch the beat, sweet sweet, got you bopping down the street


Shorts to short-sets, shorties for short sex


Forties, my forte: butterfill and four Becks


That defines Dres, d-r-e-s, no further ado


I charcoal, broil and foil more than any barbecue


In the breeze like Lenin, listen when I’m beginning


In Nueva York, better known as kings' dominion


We're back again, smacking beats across your head and back


And when you front I'l make you stand out like a fat African


Peace to all down South, I know it's hot as Hades


Love to all the fam-a-lam I scrambled in the Eighties


Now we're in the Nineties, as months go where the hour went


I stack mint and think of what? Black empowerment


I think wife, and black child to raise together


I think about the winter knowing nothing last forever


In this world things happen at the drop of a dime


Some things never happen at all, and yes y’all




[Hook: Dres (Emage)]


(Summa the time)


I’m hitting your face like the breeze


(Summa the time)


It's like I rip the mic to so many degrees


Huh, I'm docking it in your port


I'm slamming it in your court


Me taking the shorts?


I'm holding the for'ps, child please




[Mr Lawnge]


Some of the time I'm with my crew, some of the time I'm not


Bouncing down the block, blowing up the spot


But only when it's hot do I see nuff niggas looking at me


Displaying signs of jealousy, it means they're still Black With NV


I go by the name of the Sugar Dick Daddy Lawnge, ripping the song (Texts of songs )


Suckers see me, wanna be me, but I’m creamy and they’re dead wrong


To whom it may concern: yo, don’t even try, kid


Because you couldn't see me even if I was your eyelid


When I rhyme for the summertime, believe I can


Bring more relief from grief than the Icy man


Be it your front yard, your stoop or porch


Like the Kackalackan sun, I'm guaranteed to scorch


I know it was about time we dropped the now, oh gosh


We got more niggas rolling up than even at the car wash


Yeah, we're here to tan that ass like the summer sun


For the nigga that tried to dis us, we know he's the dumber one


When you hear the Sheep are rocking be on the lookout


Cause we gather more hungry crowds than a cookout




[Hook: Mr Lawnge (Emage)]


(Summa the time)


I like to tour around the world


(Summa the time)


I'm chilling hard with my girl


I like to wake late


For summer heat's sake


Listen to the fat beats we make


And chill on a summer break




[Dres]


It's the summer blitz, dips with pretty lips


Bros with or without doe flip for hits


Yo, microphone check one, be no other heap-topping


I rock a flock and mock, Sheep-Sheep rocking


Sonny, can you feel me? Honey, I be fly


Money making, really there's a ribbon in the sky


For One Love, I'm kicking my diction less the fiction


Non-believers thought me hiking and fishing


Now I spike them like a Viking


Wildstyle, like summer in Astoria


Way back my peoples made Ajax join the Warriors


Back when park jams found me trying to see the band


Until parties in the centre saw DJs as the man


A bird, a plane, feel the breeze changing lanes


I put a chill in your veins, even on a crowded train


I’m cool, more cool than Morris dropping Time


-Less legit hits for some ones in ninety-nine


Since a long time ago, I’m getting mine


Put the 'genuine' in genuine, son, I shine




[Hook: Dres (Emage)]


(Summa the time)


I'm taking respect, do you copy?


(Summa the time)


I'm whyling with my baby boy Papi


I'm with the Lawnge one


Running, ripping up tracks un-


'Til the summer skill that we flex


Says it's time to chill


(Summa the time)



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