[Intro]
Yaowa. A lot been going on these past three months. If you don't mind, I'd like to share it with you
[Verse]
Let's see. Summer of Oh Ten
Right before it kicked off I lost a really close friend
Last time we kicked it was at a show in Coney Island
Fucked with some bitches, I swear I miss my homie whylin'
That was bad enough news, like I needed to hear more
Mr. Marshall Mathers is interested in us four
"Us four" being Crooked I, Joe Budden
Royce and myself, but I swear it's always somethin'
When talks got real, E-1 started frontin'
Tryna cock block, but we handled that, it's nothin.'
Listen close, hear it from the horse's mouth, It's crazy
The deal ain't finalized, but yeah, Slaughterhouse and Shady
Show's been getting better, Highline was retarded
When Fat Joe came out, New York City went bonkers
Styles P came out and held it down for all of Yonkers
Even Sean Paul ripped it after twistin up the ganja
Closed the show with Jim Jones,you know, Nissan, Honda
Chevy. Had the fans Andretti, that's a monster
Wish I coulda spit that on the stage at Summer Jam
Can't complain though, that verse helped me scoop a couple grand
Aside from the music, copped a new apartment
Two bedroom joint, nothing fancy, a little carpet
Marble in the kitchen, cool walk-in closet
A painting here and there, something simple for an artist
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
Well then feel sorry for me, cause I had more than one
Like E-1 and Slaughterhouse single, I lost the one
Before the us and Pharoahe Monch Canada tour was done
I argued with her like, "Being insecure is dumb
The only thing that I could get from all these whores is cum."
We did the Skype thing in my bunk on late nights
Always started cool but ended in the same fight
Why I ain't picking up the phone once again
It only takes a second to reply to BBM
Baby, I don't know what to say
Maybe it was the 20 hour drive from Montreal to Thunder Bay
Maybe my phone died, maybe I'm sound checkin'
Maybe I'm on stage going in for the crowd, sweatin'
Either way it's over, you failed to understand
You were dealing with a star, not your average brother man
On another note, I got to kick it with my sons
Up in Dave and Buster's, winning tickets, it was fun
Hit Rockaway Beach, played some frisbee in the sun
At summer camp they had a Track and Field Olympics and they won
I took it down to Miami on the Fourth
Wobbled out a mansion, and did cameo of course
Shit I brought to the telly looked like panties on a horse
Freak brain, this bitch said "Nigga ram me 'til I cough."
(I gotta call that bitch)
But yeah, Flex see that I'm focused
Droppin bombs like I did to get rid of the roaches
Feels good being Puerto Rican from the projects
Countries overseas having a ball like my cahones
This summer I did well setting up of Oh Eleven
Coming up on the year my granny said "Hello" to Heaven
My mom still goes through it, every now and then she cries
I'm trying to bring a different set of tears into her eyes
Free Agent is fire, the world's will sees it's tough
Gonna drop the Yaowa Mixtape with Green to heat it up
Shouts to ICU, the documentary is nuts
Some people on there gone, a lot of memories, but yup
Gotta keep it pushing, though the ride gets bumpy
I'mma keep whipping it 'til I get money
Hate to be so blunt, but I came up extra poor
Borrowed from next door, couldn't get ketchup from the store
The butt of all the jokes, cause of the rejects that I wore
Matching perfectly with all the V-necks that I tore
But nope, not no more, my feet keep the sickest kicks
Still doing V-necks, but now my shit is crisp
I'm coming for the title boys, I hope you niggas rhyme
Treating this like high school, "A" game every time
Let you niggas party, go on Vacay, I'mma grind
'Til every verse I kick is like Pele in his prime
Y'all don't want a war, screaming "Mayday" with a nine
Your thought caliber is no match for this AK in my mind
Don't get clapped, like sex with a dirty slut
When I'm done with rap, they gon' hang ya boy jersey up
Cause I done been an all star on all bars
My dad left and the apple never falls far
So I'm gone like a sports car
Anyone who thinks they're better is just wild, draw four cards
I did this by myself, no help brother
No more sag, I'm coming for that belt fuckers
Said my prayers and God called Joell's number
So stay tuned in the Fall
Farewell Summer
