Booked Summer lyrics

[Intro]
(My n*gga Lee, I think we got another one)
I just drunk a pint of Tris, feel it in my bladder (Sonny Digital)
b*tch got cheeks, I'ma smash her
b*tch tried to leave on me, had to grab her

[Verse]
Call me Michael Myers, I'll stab her
Five thousand for a Pelle coat with the rabbit fur
Why you lookin' in the ashtray? You a scavenger
Me and Mike slid out his b*tch car, it was an Avenger
The lil' Dodge dude
Yeah, I know your pops, I know moms too, I was hittin' that
Like lil' n*gga, when you was in diapers, I was sippin' Act'
You couldn't even grab a knife and I could get a strap
Told my b*tch, "I'm goin' to the feds, so go get a strap"
Basically what I'm sayin', you gay 'til I'm gettin' back
'Til I get back, this a six-pack
I don't really likе the shoes, this a Rick hat
Walked in thе Gucci store, spent a knick-knack
Walked out with one bag, what you get, Jack?
This the one y'all kept askin' me, "Where you get that? How you get that?"
b*tch, I was gone a month, how you get cracked in thirty days?
You would take a pint, drink it thirty ways
You n*ggas pour half in lines
He just told a lil' b*tch he dropped half a dime, call him five cent
n*gga, f*ck your kids 'cause mine's rich
When I come and think about it, they say Ike snitched, that sh*t in his veins
I really don't trust n*ggas who be hittin' 'caine
I think I'm finna stop rappin', this sh*t gettin' lame
'Cause these n*ggas ain't rappin', they don't feel the same
These n*ggas think sh*t a game
They was lookin' to the left, we came a different way
n*gga jumped on his car with a whole Drac'
Hit him twice, took off his whole face
n*gga, they shoot Ubers up, so don't ride share
I kinda love Atlanta, wanna die here
They let me out December 11th, this my year
Still talkin' wet, go get a dryer
When I mix Tris with the Quagen I get higher
n*gga, I'm independent, I'm with EMPIRE
Your friend kinda ugly, but my friend like her
She look like she smoke meth like a damn biker
I done poured a four of Act' in a can Spriter
f*ck around, spent forty racks at Can-Am Spyder
I don't even drive it
I leave my jewelry layin' out, I don't even hide it, I got insurance on it
Bud said he grew the weed, but it's curin' Sunday
Hop on a b*tch with the pump, call me Bugs Bunny
My son don't want no toys, he just love money
He got a hundred racks on him, okay, lil' money
And I ain't talkin' 'bout the sh*t they took from me
When can't nobody get drank, I find Snook number
I'm finna pop another Perc', make me look dumber
This n*gga talkin' 'bout a show, I got a booked summer
I gotta dog walk her ass, but f*ck summer
Talkin' 'bout she don't listen to the Detroit music
I'm from Flint, but b*tches in Detroit do it
Nowadays I don't say sh*t, I just point to 'em
I ain't sign to EMPIRE, we did a joint venture
Ayy, he thought it was a gram, it was a point-six-er
My white boy that get drank look like Pointdexter
Since he actin' like a buffalo, clap his horns together
This new 'za sh*t cool, I like corns better
Bae, she got some good pus*y, but yours wetter
I just had to inform you
f*ck the rain, outside we'll storm too
I heard they payin' seventy-five for the orange dude
'Cause they can't press 'em
I make a hundred racks a day, n*gga, I ain't stressin'
Wasn't no dope in the crib, they found nine weapons and like five switches
Just know I'd really love you if I cried to you
Auntie don't do fentanyl, all butter