Sundress & Sandle Season (Interlude) Testo

Aye, yo, Butch, it's hotter than fish grease outside, my boy
That means it's sundress and sandal season
But some of these shorties is nastier than jail food
You know the hoes I'm talking 'bout
The ones to be flying to Miami on Spirit with a buddy pass
And they be five-deep piled up in one room at a LaQuinta Inn
Them hoes don't be having nothing except for an ID and iPhone charger
But they done been to every brunch from Buffalo to Beverly Hills
All summer, making sure they get a flick in front of that grass wall
Every ninety degree night has shorty in the club
Lace front, smelling like hookah smoke and Newports
And had it in so long, starting to look like a Tyler Perry wig, that's nasty work
She then came to the club with nothing but fifteen bucks
And they tags still on that Fashion Nova fit
Hoping them Griselda nigga pull her into this section
So she could take a boomerang of Benny to make her baby dad mad

Look, we still got six weeks 'til fall
And Mr. Power X-Man done told you already
Everybody can't go, but don't worry
'Cause Summertime Butch is coming, nigga