Birdman Feat. Tyga & Mack Maine – Every Summer

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Lyrics of Every Summer by Birdman Feat. Tyga & Mack Maine

[Verse 1: Birdman]
Bitches in my hood, know we on the grind
Ballin that money, hit it one time
Bought the 1200, candy paint job
Fresh like my wips, chroam everything
And I’m sittin in the back, movin some thangs
Chandelier lights, it’s so brite
20s on the ice, 300 price
Just like that, 50 on the watch
Coming through, nigga, Carderes on the block
Cardier block, the watch like a block
Just how we do it, nigga, hundred on the rock
Presidential sweet, uptown nigga
High life, nigga, Cash Money, bitches
Lugshery life boss, shine all the time
My bitch in a mink, and she drinking red wine

[Verse 2: Mack Mane]
You know chicks pull down front, when I’m at the top
That candy coated paint, wet on my back
That coke white Phantom, yeah, boy, I rocks that
Turn Jack Boy to No Boy when I cocks that
Then they drop back for more than 8 steps
I hate to take steps, dog, I came out the pussy runnin
I stuck my dick in wintertime, told Summer I’m cummin
I ain’t frontin, my back yard lookin like an auction
But I ain’t sellin nothing, and I ain’t bargin when I got them
I really treat the Summertime like the son of mine
Like, grind hard, and shine hard, like I got Stunna’s mind
Baby, I’m an extra nigga, girl, I like extra shit
You know, like extra money, extra clothes, and extra chicks
You know, that extra shit like extra that, and extra this
If you ain’t tryna shine, god bless ya, bitch

[Verse 3: Tyga]
Young nigga with the ocean, bae
Palm trees and sand on the balkony
Wake up and thank the lord for lookin out for me
And all the real niggas that surroundin me
I think about the haters, then I count to 3
Cause they all just fake, like green screens
Fly niggas don’t die, we multiply
So everytime you pop a bottle, put it in the sky
Show you livin right, top back, no flaws
Hold it in, from Cali to Crenshaw
Ride in them big cars, Tyga, fuckin star
If I could do anything in my life more, make more money, dog
Life is easy, but you make it hard
It’s no fasod, or a meradge
Crossed thumbs, I don’t mean no harm
Young Money, Cash Money, we never fall
So shauty, tell me what you frontin for

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