Joell Ortiz - Farewell Summer lyrics

Yaowa a lot been going on these past
Three months if you don't mind
I'd like to share it with you

Let's see summer of Oh Ten
Right before it kicked off I
Lost a really close friend
Last time we kicked it was at
A show in Coney Island
Fucked with some bitches
I swear I miss my homie whylin'
That was bad enough news
Like I needed to hear more
Mr marshall Mathers is interested in us four
"Us four" being Crooked I, Joe Budden
Royce and myself
But I swear it's always somethin'
When talks got real, E-1 started frontin'
Tryna cock block, but we handled that
It's nothin'
Listen close, hear it from the horse's mouth
It's crazy
The deal ain't finalized, but yeah
Slaughterhouse and Shady
Show's been getting better
Highline was retarded when Fat Joe came out
New York City went bonkers
Styles P came out and held it
Down for all of Yonkers
Even Sean Paul ripped it after
Twistin up the ganja
Closed the show with Jim
Jones, you know, Nissan, honda
Chevy had the fans Andretti, that's a monster
Wish I coulda spit that on
The stage at Summer Jam
Can't complain though
That verse helped me scoop a couple grand
Aside from the music, copped a new apartment
Two bedroom joint, nothing fancy
A little carpet
Marble in the kitchen, cool walk-in closet
A painting here and there
Something simple for an artist
If you havin' girl problems, I
Feel bad for you, son
Well then feel sorry for me
Cause I had more than one
Like E-1 and Slaughterhouse single
I lost the one
Before the us and Pharoahe Monch
Canada tour was done i argued with her like
"Being insecure is dumb
The only thing that I could get
From all these whores is cum"
We did the Skype thing in
My bunk on late nights
Always started cool but ended
In the same fight
Why I ain't picking up the phone once again
It only takes a second to reply to BBM
Baby, I don't know what to say
Maybe it was the 20 hour drive
From Montreal to Thunder Bay
Maybe my phone died, maybe I'm sound checkin'
Maybe I'm on stage going in for the crowd
Sweatin' either way it's over
You failed to understand
You were dealing with a star
Not your average brother man
On another note
I got to kick it with my sons
Up in Dave and Buster's, winning tickets
It was fun hit Rockaway Beach
Played some frisbee in the sun
At summer camp they had a Track
And Field Olympics and they won
I took it down to Miami on the Fourth
Wobbled out a mansion
And did cameo of course
Shit I brought to the telly looked
Like panties on a horse freak brain
This bitch said "Nigga ram me 'til I cough"
(I gotta call that bitch)
But yeah, Flex see that I'm focused
Droppin bombs like I did to
Get rid of the roaches
Feels good being Puerto Rican
From the projects
Countries overseas having a ball
Like my cahones
This summer I did well setting
Up of Oh Eleven coming up on the year my
Granny said "Hello" to Heaven
My mom still goes through it
Every now and then she cries
I'm trying to bring a different set
Of tears into her eyes free Agent is fire
The world's will sees it's tough
Gonna drop the Yaowa Mixtape with
Green to heat it up
Shouts to ICU, the documentary is nuts
Some people on there gone, a lot of memories
But yup gotta keep it pushing
Though the ride gets bumpy
I'mma keep whipping it 'til I get money
Hate to be so blunt, but I came up extra poor
Borrowed from next door
Couldn't get ketchup from the store
The butt of all the jokes
Cause of the rejects that I wore
Matching perfectly with all the
V-necks that I tore but nope, not no more
My feet keep the sickest kicks
Still doing V-necks, but now my shit is crisp
I'm coming for the title boys
I hope you niggas rhyme
Treating this like high school
"A" game every time
Let you niggas party, go on Vacay
I'mma grind 'Til every verse I kick is
Like Pele in his prime
Y'all don't want a war
Screaming "Mayday" with a nine
Your thought caliber is no match for
This AK in my mind
Don't get clapped, like sex with a dirty slut
When I'm done with rap
They gon' hang ya boy jersey up
Cause, I done been an all star on all bars
My dad left and the apple never falls far
So I'm gone like a sports car
Anyone who thinks they're better
Is just wild, draw four cards
I did this by myself, no help brother
No more sag, I'm coming for that belt fuckers
Said my prayers and God called Joell's number
So stay tuned in the Fall farewell Summer