Legend Of The Summertime

by Leon St. Heron

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Kool & The Gang Loop "Summer Madness"

lyrics

Legend Of The Summer Time (Dead Homies)

It's something bout these strings,
Remind me of our dreams,
Something bout the bass remind me of these things,
Lemme tell you bout the Queens Martin Luther King
Lemme tell you bout the chargers how we still ain't got no rings//


Nappy headed niggaz by the pool side,
Your wave gone fucked around & let your cool die,
Let some real niggaz get they little shine,
Beginning of the solstice Legend Of The Summer Time,
Fuck your movement & what your clip about,
These is dirty vans these is filthy hands,
This Horchata with the Hennesy
Bad bitches & weed gone be the end of me
since we was I was young I been that nigga gold
I used to hit your line ask you if you wanna roll,
It's been a couple months let's kick it and smoked some blunts,
Always had the jams driving fast like buckle up
You passed away the song must continue,
Did another show... Killed another venue,
Laced a couple songs over beats I ment to send you,
You lived by the gat I lived by the pencil.
I swear to god i still see you round the hood,
Why god take the good is what I never understood,
Like we just had made it
Just got faded
Just got fitted
& your car got kitted
Just bought the swisher & you just had spit it,
Just started living good & that's when your life ended.
Ever summer I stunt on these nigga,
Living life twice ash a blunt on these niggaz,
Whos these niggaz rap check the cunt on these niggaz
Put they lives on a lease month to month on these niggaz


It's something bout these strings,
Remind me of our dreams,
Something bout the bass remind me of these things,
Lemme tell you bout the Queens Martin Luther King
Lemme tell you bout the chargers how we still ain't got no rings


Lemme know is there's a haven for a G?
Room for a V does haven got jeeps,
System with the beats & the stitching in the seats,
Ima stay on earth if that place ain't got no streets//
Tacos with Celintro
Weed with the Fonto
Girls with the tops low
Broken but we got doe
Mario's for dickies be the reason that she pick me,
Fresh white tees to the neck like a hickie,
up on Sunday morn eyes red from the mourning,
Sad the party died but everyday we live enormous,
I Keeps it pushin Dont stop for niggaz,
If the beef ain't bout money Don't box with these niggaz
If he ain't on my level I don't rocks with these niggaz
Everyday fly hat to socks on these niggaz//
Check my watch on these niggaz
Wouldn't let me in the door I picked the lock on these niggaz,
I just the sum of the things earned,
Crushing down the 94 while I'm bumping Ern,
How to keep it G is what they'll never learn,
I been getting swole I just need the perm,
We lost Pac back in 96'
Me and my sister cryed ain't that some shit?
I thought it made it even when the took BIG,
Think they felt same when they took you//

It's something bout these strings,
Remind me of our dreams,
Something bout the bass remind me of these things,
Lemme tell you bout my Queens Martin Luther King
Lemme tell you bout the chargers how we still ain't got no rings//


I feel that your still here baby,
Gone but your not far baby
I see you in all things baby
Your sending your love down baaaaby

We'll well well

credits

released July 8, 1997

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about

Leon St. Heron San Diego, California

Leon St Heron bio

Leon has most recently released his EP Trilly&Truly in 2013 produced by entirely by Soulection artist Abjo and is soon to release the fourth coming LP.

San Diego native 1/2 of Brother Nature.


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