This is a song about "Writing the next summer hits"

Put the haters in vein choking like smoker hits,

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

Blood is on the leaves through summer but i'll never fall,

I'm so-cal, you so-called rappers need to go call

These other niggas is lyin, actin’ like the summer ain’t mine

Went and got two maseratis at the same damn time

Gotta wait till it hits the green sights.

Nigga fuck the black and whites

Remember when i used to call you on your phone line

The temp of your blood will rise, hotter than the summer time.

Wouldn't sell my soul to the devil for summer jam,

College girl going wild, we gonna need a camera man

Like the chimes on a warm summer night

Ain't that how black's do it, right

While they was laughing i was writing my next chapter

There she go, just what the doc's been lookin for