This that spring and summer shit
Crab crawlin ridin in that hummer shit
This that spring and summer shit
Crab crawlin ridin in that hummer shit
Fresh as ever
You would thought a nigga numbers hit
Beautiful weather reorganizing my closet
Gotta put up the sweaters no more jogging suits
I got a hot brownie with me and you know she cute
The electric drop bentley that's the new pursuit
Exclusive dinners top floors
I can look down and see the shore
Got french niggas saying bonjour
No more jealous niggas around
No comparisons, keeping the score
A glass of Shay Le Portier
Take one of my strolls through the old hood
Chopping on blades
And you niggas know the fade is fresh
I'm still the best to dress
Wifey looking at me like where we gonna go out next
Hit the Maldives just to have sex
Visit the Lord's house on Sunday just to pay the respects
Grown man shit
Go to God before I make my next move
That's my motto
We here like shedeur and deion in Colorado
Uh, I'm a rizz god
We got our toes out on the yacht
Yeah I called him up on the telephone
I said hey man come on over to the pad
Let's rap a taste on it you know
So when he comes over I told her to give him a little taste
Cause he sure as shit wasn't getting nothing from me
See that nigga wanted the honey
All we wants is the money, money, money
Spring and summer shit
I'm late for the pisces season
When she show up in tights
I'm cheesing
Like a kid about to get out of school in Texas
We throw parties but we ain't getting in the pool
Splash
Perfect weather for rolling up trees
Been winning so much niggas asking me to sneeze on them
Little homie acting tough you better get him before you bleed on him
My energy has elevated past broken egos
We on the yacht blowing big chilling with the seagulls
Niggas masculinity looking finicky
Everywhere we go you ain't a friend to me
If you don't want to see niggas win jealousy attracts enemies
We playa
Like that bougie nigga orchestrating symphonies
Or a King buying his bottom bitch a ring at Tiffany's
Man I was out on the street
You know checking out my game
Yeah I ran into a little ol nice thing, you wouldn't believe it, man
Oh shit
Oh she's a beauty
Oh man
Yeah well you know how these little young macs are man
They don't have they shit in order you know
I ran down and caught me this little thing man
And knocked over you know just I had to stash that away you know
Well tell me what you gonna do with this one
Oh man shit
Well you know how I am
I'm gonna run my thing you know
It's all about the money game with me
Money game with me
Kango
Shell toe
Adidas windbreaker pants with the figger roll
OG paid in full glasses
Just a little something to break the monotony of all that mediocre rap shit
It's gotten to be acceptable with the masses
Three-story yachts
Rolex bands on the wrist but we ain't checking clocks
Fist full of money
Gucci slides with the socks
White linen
Beautiful girls grinning
Grown niggas with the Cuban cigars
Pulled up on them but we ain't parking cars
Drank something nigga
Champagne on ice
Lemonade in Hennessy and Mason jars
Today got a nigga feeling like a superstar
Oooh
Oh, yeah
B the Alphamale - Spring & Summer Lyrics
B the Alphamale - Spring & Summer Lyrics
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English
This that spring and summer shit
Crab crawlin ridin in that hummer shit
This that spring and summer shit
Crab crawlin ridin in that hummer shit
Fresh as ever
You would thought a nigga numbers hit
Beautiful weather reorganizing my closet
Gotta put up the sweaters no more jogging suits
I got a hot brownie with me and you know she cute
The electric drop bentley that's the new pursuit
Exclusive dinners top floors
I can look down and see the shore
Got french niggas saying bonjour
No more jealous niggas around
No comparisons, keeping the score
A glass of Shay Le Portier
Take one of my strolls through the old hood
Chopping on blades
And you niggas know the fade is fresh
I'm still the best to dress
Wifey looking at me like where we gonna go out next
Hit the Maldives just to have sex
Visit the Lord's house on Sunday just to pay the respects
Grown man shit
Go to God before I make my next move
That's my motto
We here like shedeur and deion in Colorado
Uh, I'm a rizz god
We got our toes out on the yacht
Yeah I called him up on the telephone
I said hey man come on over to the pad
Let's rap a taste on it you know
So when he comes over I told her to give him a little taste
Cause he sure as shit wasn't getting nothing from me
See that nigga wanted the honey
All we wants is the money, money, money
Spring and summer shit
I'm late for the pisces season
When she show up in tights
I'm cheesing
Like a kid about to get out of school in Texas
We throw parties but we ain't getting in the pool
Splash
Perfect weather for rolling up trees
Been winning so much niggas asking me to sneeze on them
Little homie acting tough you better get him before you bleed on him
My energy has elevated past broken egos
We on the yacht blowing big chilling with the seagulls
Niggas masculinity looking finicky
Everywhere we go you ain't a friend to me
If you don't want to see niggas win jealousy attracts enemies
We playa
Like that bougie nigga orchestrating symphonies
Or a King buying his bottom bitch a ring at Tiffany's
Man I was out on the street
You know checking out my game
Yeah I ran into a little ol nice thing, you wouldn't believe it, man
Oh shit
Oh she's a beauty
Oh man
Yeah well you know how these little young macs are man
They don't have they shit in order you know
I ran down and caught me this little thing man
And knocked over you know just I had to stash that away you know
Well tell me what you gonna do with this one
Oh man shit
Well you know how I am
I'm gonna run my thing you know
It's all about the money game with me
Money game with me
Kango
Shell toe
Adidas windbreaker pants with the figger roll
OG paid in full glasses
Just a little something to break the monotony of all that mediocre rap shit
It's gotten to be acceptable with the masses
Three-story yachts
Rolex bands on the wrist but we ain't checking clocks
Fist full of money
Gucci slides with the socks
White linen
Beautiful girls grinning
Grown niggas with the Cuban cigars
Pulled up on them but we ain't parking cars
Drank something nigga
Champagne on ice
Lemonade in Hennessy and Mason jars
Today got a nigga feeling like a superstar
Oooh
Oh, yeah
Crab crawlin ridin in that hummer shit
This that spring and summer shit
Crab crawlin ridin in that hummer shit
Fresh as ever
You would thought a nigga numbers hit
Beautiful weather reorganizing my closet
Gotta put up the sweaters no more jogging suits
I got a hot brownie with me and you know she cute
The electric drop bentley that's the new pursuit
Exclusive dinners top floors
I can look down and see the shore
Got french niggas saying bonjour
No more jealous niggas around
No comparisons, keeping the score
A glass of Shay Le Portier
Take one of my strolls through the old hood
Chopping on blades
And you niggas know the fade is fresh
I'm still the best to dress
Wifey looking at me like where we gonna go out next
Hit the Maldives just to have sex
Visit the Lord's house on Sunday just to pay the respects
Grown man shit
Go to God before I make my next move
That's my motto
We here like shedeur and deion in Colorado
Uh, I'm a rizz god
We got our toes out on the yacht
Yeah I called him up on the telephone
I said hey man come on over to the pad
Let's rap a taste on it you know
So when he comes over I told her to give him a little taste
Cause he sure as shit wasn't getting nothing from me
See that nigga wanted the honey
All we wants is the money, money, money
Spring and summer shit
I'm late for the pisces season
When she show up in tights
I'm cheesing
Like a kid about to get out of school in Texas
We throw parties but we ain't getting in the pool
Splash
Perfect weather for rolling up trees
Been winning so much niggas asking me to sneeze on them
Little homie acting tough you better get him before you bleed on him
My energy has elevated past broken egos
We on the yacht blowing big chilling with the seagulls
Niggas masculinity looking finicky
Everywhere we go you ain't a friend to me
If you don't want to see niggas win jealousy attracts enemies
We playa
Like that bougie nigga orchestrating symphonies
Or a King buying his bottom bitch a ring at Tiffany's
Man I was out on the street
You know checking out my game
Yeah I ran into a little ol nice thing, you wouldn't believe it, man
Oh shit
Oh she's a beauty
Oh man
Yeah well you know how these little young macs are man
They don't have they shit in order you know
I ran down and caught me this little thing man
And knocked over you know just I had to stash that away you know
Well tell me what you gonna do with this one
Oh man shit
Well you know how I am
I'm gonna run my thing you know
It's all about the money game with me
Money game with me
Kango
Shell toe
Adidas windbreaker pants with the figger roll
OG paid in full glasses
Just a little something to break the monotony of all that mediocre rap shit
It's gotten to be acceptable with the masses
Three-story yachts
Rolex bands on the wrist but we ain't checking clocks
Fist full of money
Gucci slides with the socks
White linen
Beautiful girls grinning
Grown niggas with the Cuban cigars
Pulled up on them but we ain't parking cars
Drank something nigga
Champagne on ice
Lemonade in Hennessy and Mason jars
Today got a nigga feeling like a superstar
Oooh
Oh, yeah
Writer: Barry Wallace
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid