Brooklyn Summer

Giving God all the glory
We're going to praise God this summer
Brooklyn style
I guess that's why we're calling this one
Brooklyn Summer
Shot-out to New York City
Let's do this

Git up, do your sit-ups, a hundred push-ups
Keep up, with me you'll never catch up
Even your momma said you suck
On the basketball court, alley-oop it to Jamak he dunks
In Brooklyn, in your face is his nut
Primetime ESPN we just having fun
Now, we back on the run rest in peace
Tupac, and Big Pun and all the fallen rappers, that made a run
Go hard, until you done, never know, unless you try
Boom, the competition you won
Celebrate, with some Junior's Cheesecake
Yummy, yum-yum, said my dinner date
Her stank but was thirty minutes late
But the coffee and desserts were great
Gulp it all down, with a strawberry and banana milkshake
Full as a tick all that just made my day
Two steps later my bowels said hold-up, wait
Countdown until my bowels dilate
After the commode, feeling lighter like I done lost some weight
I'm not Muslim but, pray at least three times a day
First of all riding on the subway, call it a date with God
Close my eyes, he strengthens my staff and rod
Awake, I'm Israeli intelligence unit chief I'm Kidon, Mossad
Multilingual, I mingle, in the Vatican
Holy water on me the pope sprinkles
Celibate monk, I'm single, like Jesus, a carpenter
On your roof I lay shingles
United nations, I speak Latin and Aramaic
You can't interpret or translate it
In Brooklyn this summer, I made it
Cross the Translantic I wouldn't trade it
My lyrics are vibranium, with plutonium, and uranium
My concert blows up your stadium
Dr. JD's my alias, north of, the Adirondacks I'm Canadian
An illegal alien, when I bust a nut I'm macadamian
Under the tunnel, to Manhattan
Call me, subterranean
My Jesus piece, is made, from palladium
Listen to my lyrics, and diagnose, my mania
Open your mind, to what I'm saying, to you
Relaying to you, then celebrate, pop. The corkscrew
We VIP at Club Truth
Get out the way, when we pull up and come through
Hand me the mic, put the volume through the roof
I rock the party until they shoot up the room
My entourage is Jamak, he crew
Like shaggy, and Scooby-Doo
Together, scrappy-too
Ain't nothing we can't do
Space-X it to the moon
I'm your superhero galactic cartoon
Animaniacs I'm looney tunes, worked at Disney
No mustache, viola I'm groomed
Nickelodeon, your slimed, and glued
Sticky, you got screwed
The kids, in the crowd, even booed
Some cried, went, boo-hoo
Wet their pants, soiled their
Socks and shoes, barefoot now
They're barney, and Fred Flintstone
Hard rock café theatre showtime, it's on
The intro, that means it's just begun
Jamak, pass it to me, shot-gun
To Harlem, now we cross the Hudson
Showtime at the Apollo sandman celebrates
I won, self-deprecating means I keep it humble
Get back on my gymnastics after I take a tumble
Jiujitsu assassin, tap you out make you scream, uncle
The boogie down Bronx calls me, Tarzan in their jungle
Where I'm a lion, disgruntle
Tangled, your lady let's me in, call her Rapunzel
You come home, of your castle I'm out the back tunnel
Slide down, a spiral funnel
Cotton candy, I like truffles
Russel Stover's sweet candy
The calories hold me over
Tricks are for kids, lucky charms, I want my four-leaf clover
Hurry up, Brooklyn summer's, almost over
Paint a picture of me, Christian rap's Casanova
Before, we ride the roller coaster
Snap a picture, my face is poker
Regurgitate my lyrics, they sober
Leave a mess, don't see no soap and water
Clean up on aisle three, need a bulldozer

Yea, clean up on aisle three
Y'all going to need a bulldozer
Jesus, you are Lord
Hallelujah



Credits
Writer(s): Edward Lynum
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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