Artist: Murs Album: Captain California Song: Summer Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Murs] Six niggaz in a G ride Squadded up, headed to the East side They try to clown cause we from West L.A. Them niggaz think we bougie and we just for play Got a AK, and a .38 Lower-Middle class niggaz movin up the murder rate The other day they was talkin real big Caught me slippin up the West field with my kid At the bus stop, with my baby's mom Tried to keep it cool, said I didn't want no problem They took off on me anyway All I had was my hands and some pepper spray My lady and my son had to run away They should've killed me but I lived to fight another day I know where they stay, I know where they be Your best friend is your enemy's enemy We pulled up, got the drop on 'em Them bitch niggaz went and called the cops on us We got pulled over 'bout a block away They snatched the big homie, and took his AK [Chorus 2X: Murs] I can't wait 'til the summer come The big homie get another gun Muh'fuckers thought that they wanted some? Now we the niggaz that they runnin from [Murs] Deuce-deuce in the chrome 4-5 These niggaz talkin peace but the beef won't die You could find me in that chair, put the needle to my arm 'fore I ever let another man do me harm Cause I remember, when they said they was comin for us We kicked back and waited all summer for it Them niggaz had they chance And now the big homie home and yep, we got plans And I ain't talkin 'bout no summer vacation I'm talkin 'bout fuckin off my probation I ain't talkin 'bout Disneyland I'm talkin eight of us deep in a mini-van No volleyball, sun tans or surfboards Just a bunch of niggaz dead from a turf war That's how my best friend missed his first tour Cause we act like our lives ain't worth more [Chorus]