BLACK ICE - Nights In The Summertime lyrics

rate me

(feat. Ghostface Killah, X.L.)

[Intro: Professor]

Talk about, whether get ice, yo

Shorty got here without yo

Silver bags, check it, yo, yo, yo

[Professor]

I love the summer, warm weather, still rockin', all leather

Black bag, black beretta, all night cheddar

Shorty's cluckin' on the block, talkin' bout who's clothes is better

While the thugs on the block talkin' bout whose pussy wetter

Spanish fly in the air, mad shorties everywhere

Smokin' blunts in the stairs, run my fingers through her hair

Gas 'em up, give 'em backstage passes to X.L.

Wit Black Ice, end of the night, we hit the hotel

Oh well, summertime bring out the dog in the God

I see that thong through the spandex, and my dick get hard

Got a get a little piece of that boo, you know how we do

I love it when you wearin' see-through, cuz I can see through

Pick up a bag of lethal on the Ave.

Meet Ghost in the town, let him take a few drags

Professor on the Nextel, pollyin' wit Bagz

From Philly to New Yiggy, son, we stay gettin' cash, worldwide

[Chorus: X.L.]

I can't even front on you baby (I can't even front)

Gettin' money and flossin' it (flossin')

Big pimpin' and ballin', baby (ballin')

Every night of the summer (every single night)

We the ones to bring it back (we the ones)

No doubt, it's no doubt (no doubt)

This is how we livin' it out (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Every night of the summer

[Bagz]

This summer I'm trynna lay low

Cruisin' down Maine in the Hummer

Make a stop, grab a few rubbers

Call a few numbers, meet up wit friends

Barbeques everywhere, we all up in here

Shorty's rob the X.L., slow dancin' in bras and underwear

Lapdancin', christenin' the chairs

Ya bitches know legend got the private pools

So when the pussy get hot we make them profit move

I'm tellin' you, time to ball

Shorty's mud fightin' in thongs, playin' our song

Wet t-shirt contest, hard dick in my palm

Lovin' it all, New York to Pennsy', Shaolin to Philly

Heineken's and illy, we blaze thoroughly

Professor, sit and relax I got this baby

[X.L.]

And we blaze, we blaze...

[Chorus]

[Ghostface Killah]

Aiyo, it's Ghost Deini, toast, to the album of the year

Wu money, hit, the platinum and yea

It's for the seeds, let's put the future in their hands

Blueprint their plan, college cars and grands

We champs, see the dance is in our stance

And the truth is in the speakers and the proof is in the air

Wallies on holidays, Dennis Coles and Rose

Plenty shows and dough, and still glow without spendin'

Man, these jars wit bees in 'em, look at the seeds run

Hopscotch and double dutch, poppin' bubble gum

Wife-beaters wit all white sneakers, Yankee hats six 7/8th's son

Sat right on my face

[Chorus]