6 Summers Songtext
von Anderson .Paak

Wait a minute!

Trump′s got a love child and I hope that bitch is buckwild
I hope she sip Mezcal, I hope she kiss señoritas and black gals
I hope her momma's El Salv′, I hope her poppa stick around, yeah

Take chains off, take rings off
Bracelets and things, big aches and pains
My jack rang off with clickbait
Truth is too raw, it's a fish plate
Fela, the kunte
A hunnid and fifty of us on the big stage?
How long it took a nigga just to get paid?
And now I think I'm ′bout to buy a Bentley, pronto


I′m in LA with the shaker and bongo
I heard your tape, do or die, it was compo-
Trimmin' the bream with the blade and lawnmow′
Figure it out, nigga
Bitch, don't spill my sake
You gon′make me kick you out this 'partment
You gon′ have to kick it in the lobby
Damn, but don't somebody stop me, I'm too sloppy

Trump′s got a love child and I hope that bitch is buckwild
I hope she sip Mezcal, I hope she kiss señoritas and black gals
I hope her momma′s El Salv', I hope her poppa stick around, yes, Lord

The revolution will not be televised
But it will be streamed live
In 1080p on your pea-brain head in the face ass mobile device
Alright?

This shit gon′ bang at least six summers
From out that rock you been under
Mummy wrapped, duffel bag, gutter bunny
It's hard to stomach cold murder
It′s easier to get a nine millimeter
He was 19 with a burner, they had to off 'em (Off ′em)
Reform, reform shoulda came sooner (Sooner)

Wait a minute!
This shit gon' bang for at least six summers
(Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers)

Word!


This shit gon' bang for at least six summers
But ain′t shit gon′ change for at least three summers
They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the shooter
Reform, reform shoulda came sooner

Come on
This shit gon' bang at least six summers
Pop the top, that bitch hot than a motha
We need more peace and less lone gunners
Put down your heat and smoke marijuanas
Pop the lock off your muzzle
Niggas is dyin′ like lost files in the shuffle
We know you lyin', my nigga, naw, we don′t trust you
We know you buy to sell it back to the public

'Cause there′s money to made in the killin' spree
That's why he tryna start a war on the Twitter feed
Somebody take this nigga′s phone, is you kiddin′ me?
Take them AKs up outta these Inner City streets

This shit gon' bang for at least six summers
But ain′t shit gon' change for at least three summers
They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the shooter
Reform, reform shoulda came sooner

And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain
Get the Coltrane and the Cobain
And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain
Get the Coltrane and the Cobain

Dear Mr. President, it′s evident that you don't give a damn
Shi- tell me somethin′ that I don't know
All this fuckin' evidence and if it ever make it to the stand
Shi- you know they gon′ let ′em go, bro
You was overseas stealin' niggas′ land and oil
Billy copped the Desert Eag' and it′s legal to tote it
Lil' nigga bullied out his Pumas
But why he have to shoot the whole school up?

And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain
Get the Coltrane and the Cobain
And so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain
Get the Coltrane and the Cobain

This shit gon′ bang at least six summers
(Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers)
Word!
This shit gon' bang for at least six summers
But ain't shit gon′ change for at least three summers
They tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother
Pop-pop-pop goes the shooter
Reform, reform shoulda came sooner