Correction Paroles Summer Breeze (Remix) par DJ Quik

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Paroles

Now even though I was only a young buck, I was still tryna kick it
Having a gang of fun and much too young to be wicked
'Cause when I was thirteen you know we didn't have cars
It was either double ride the peg nuts or hop on the handle bars
And then we went and bought a gang of balloons
And had a water balloon fight that lasted until the night
Then after that we played a little "Hide and Go Get It"
With the neighborhood fat necks dumb enough to be with it
All in fun and games and keeping it cool
But my my, when you're kicking it, time flies by
'Cause every hour's a minutе and every minute seems likе a second
And if I'd came home late, my mama would ring my neck, yeah
But I regret not them whoopin's I got
'Cause to be able to play the next day was okay
On a mission, to hit up the neighbor's fruit trees
Just a bunch of kids chillin', enjoying the summer breeze

Now I'm growing some fuzz, getting older like seventeen or eighteen
And the only thing I know is to stay clean
T-shirt, short pants, Nikes on spotless
I was even old enough to buy me a Cutlass
Or a vehicle to ride around town, flirt with the hoes and
Roll down the window and mack to the one who's chosen
"Ayo, me and my homies is havin' a barbeque
So baby, why don't you come and bring them tight-ass biker shorts, too"
Before I finish my whole sentence complete
Yo, she was off the bus stop and in my passenger seat
And we was sliding to the Westside, stopped at the store
To get some Boones Farm because that make 'em kick it a little more
And at the spot, you know the chicken was kickin'
The pig on the grill, and so the day was chill
But that night, my girl was tipsy and was ready to skeeze
But I didn't even hit, too busy jockin' that summer breeze

Now I'm twenty-three and I remember the times
When we was chillin' like villains and didn't have no nines
Like when we used to mob to beaches to kick it and swim
Now I hang around and watch the tides come in
And I'm thinking how many funerals I've been to
Watching all my homies get buried in them boxes they put 'em into
And then I read a letter from upstate
From my homie G-Wayne, who's been locked up since '87, '88
And it really ain't nothing fly about it
So either I'ma stay strong or break down and simply cry about it
And when it feel like it just ain't gon' be right
I gotta thank my creator for letting me sleep last night
And waking me up in the morning because I shudder to think
That that could be me dead or locked away in the clink
So I'm lifting my homie's spirits as tall as the trees
And I can even hear him calling me, in the summer breeze

Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
(It's so good)
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
(It's so good)
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
(It's so good)
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
(It's so good)
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime
Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime

Chillin' with the homeboys, thinkin' 'bout the old times
Sippin' on a bottle of wine in the summertime

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