Summer '25

Summertime Butch
(Nyckles spin that shit) yo

It's summer '25 already, look how quick a year passed
The Thunder won a chip, the whole LA smell like tear gas
Connects still tappin' in, I told 'em, "I'm retired, still" (I'm retired, still)
He said you gon' regret it like Zion regret Moriah Mills

Spent last summer broke, but now we up, we gotta give him his
'Cause last year was y'all turn, but this summer, y'all stick-up kids
Bundy had a daughter, Bean, back home from that prison bid
The streets need a Griselda album, and, shit, I need a bigger crib

But once I left the streets, I watched the sun set in Greece
Come back to visit Shay gravesite, tell bruh, "Rest in peace" (rest in peace, Shay)
I got seniority with the plug, he said it's one left for me (just for me)
My own boss, so I could drop a tape, when one just released (my own boss)

The independent hustle, yeah, I came up eatin' off the backend
With better jewels and longer runs than rappers who went platinum
It's Summertime Butch deuce, I had to make it annual
In a pot scrapin' granules, that's how I made it tangible

I'm Montana Ave Butch, I'm literally from trap heaven
Y'all niggas chit-chat reckless (uh-uh-uh), and basically, that's tellin'
Can't compare me to no new rappers, they gotta be past legends
She ask for dough before I fuck, but basically, that's beggin'

I'm in every state, guess you could say that I'm a travel hustler
Seen 'em try to do what Butch did, and don't last a summer
They 17 a joint, we break the whip down and wrap 'em under
That price go where I go, just like Davante Adams number (whoo)

I'll buy a pallet from you, just write down that magic number
Been so good for so long, that they don't think I have the hunger
Ain't addin' up, I chew through shit (I chew through shit), which rapper I'ma have for supper? (Who? Which one?)
Dependin' what your watch cost, her bra unfasten for you

They wanna see my status plummet, probably say, "I had it comin'"
Meanwhile, I'm grindin', stackin' hundreds, flyin' pack in luggage
Ah, it ain't no clouds, and it's 90 outside
That mean it's grimy outside, but fuck it, you can still find me outside

Summer '25