X.L. - Nights in the Summertime lyrics

[Intro: Professor] Talk about, whether get ice, yo Shorty got here without yo Silver bags, check it, yo, yo, yo [Professor] I love the summer, warm weather, still rockin', all leather Black bag, black beretta, all night cheddar Shorty's cluckin' on the block, talkin' bout who's clothes is better While the thugs on the block talkin' bout whose p**y wetter Spanish fly in the air, mad shorties everywhere Smokin' blunts in the stairs, run my fingers through her hair Gas 'em up, give 'em backstage pa**es to X.L Wit Black Ice, end of the night, we hit the hotel Oh well, summertime bring out the dog in the God I see that thong through the spandex, and my dick get hard Got a get a little piece of that boo, you know how we do I love it when you wearin' see-through, cuz I can see through Pick up a bag of lethal on the Ave Meet Ghost in the town, let him take a few drags Professor on the Nextel, pollyin' wit Bagz From Philly to New Yiggy, son, we stay gettin' cash, worldwide [Chorus: X.L.] I can't even front on you baby (I can't even front) Gettin' money and flossin' it (flossin') Big pimpin' and ballin', baby (ballin') Every night of the summer (every single night) We the ones to bring it back (we the ones) No doubt, it's no doubt (no doubt) This is how we livin' it out (yeah, yeah, yeah) Every night of the summer [Bagz] This summer I'm trynna lay low Cruisin' down Maine in the Hummer Make a stop, grab a few rubbers Call a few numbers, meet up wit friends Barbeques everywhere, we all up in here Shorty's rob the X.L., slow dancin' in bras and underwear Lapdancin', christenin' the chairs Ya b**hes know legend got the private pools So when the p**y get hot we make them profit move I'm tellin' you, time to ball Shorty's mud fightin' in thongs, playin' our song Wet t-shirt contest, hard dick in my palm Lovin' it all, New York to Pennsy', Shaolin to Philly Heineken's and illy, we blaze thoroughly Professor, sit and relax I got this baby [X.L.] And we blaze, we blaze... [Chorus] [Ghostface k**ah] Aiyo, it's Ghost Deini, toast, to the album of the year Wu money, hit, the platinum and yea It's for the seeds, let's put the future in their hands Blueprint their plan, college cars and grands We champs, see the dance is in our stance And the truth is in the speakers and the proof is in the air Wallies on holidays, Dennis Coles and Rose Plenty shows and dough, and still glow without spendin' Man, these jars wit bees in 'em, look at the seeds run Hopscotch and double dutch, poppin' bubble gum Wife-beaters wit all white sneakers, Yankee hats six 7/8th's son Sat right on my face [Chorus]