Now even though I was only a young buck I was still trying to kick it.
Having a gang of fun, and much too young to be wicked.
'Cause when I was thirteen you know we didn't have cars.
It was either double ride the peg nuts, or hop on the handle bars.
And then we went and bought a gang of balloons and had
A water balloon fight that lasted until the night.
Then after that we played some "hide and go get it"
With the neighborhood homegirls dumb enough to be with it.
All in fun and games and keeping it cool,
But my, my, when you're kicking it, time flys by;
'Cause every hour's a minute, and every minute's a sec.
And if I'd came home late my moms would ring my neck, yeah,
But I regret not the whoopings I got.
'Cause to be able to play the next day was okay.
On a mission, to hit up the neighbor's fruit trees;
Just a bunch of kids chillin', enjoying the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Summer breeze, flowing like the wind;
Boy, you need to know that you got a friend.
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
Now I'm growing some fuzz; getting older - like seventeen, eighteen,
And the only thing I know is to stay clean.
T-shirt, short pants, Nikes on spotless.
I was even old enough to buy me a Cutlass;
A little vehicle to ride around town, play with the hos, and
Roll down the window and mack to the one who's chosen.
Yo, them biker pants is looking kinda right on you.
My name is DJ Quik, and my homies is having a barbeque.
Before I finish my whole sentence complete,
She was off the bus stop and in my passenger seat.
And we was sliding to the Westside, stopped at the store
To get some farm; 'cause that make 'em kick it a little more.
And at the spot, you know that chicken was kicking.
The pig on the grill, and, so, the day was chill,
But that night my girl was tipsy and ready to skeeze,
But I didn't even trip; too busy jocking the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Now I'm twenty-three, and I remember the times when
We was chillin' like villians and didn't have no nines.
Like when we used to mob to beaches to kick it and swim.
Now I hang around and watch the tides come in,
And I'm thinking how many funerals I've been to.
Watching all my homies get buried in them boxes they put 'em into.
And then I read a letter from upstate, from my homie G-Wayne,
Who's been locked up since '87, '88.
And it really ain't nothing fly about it,
So he go: "I'm a stay strong, or I'm a break down and simply cry about it."
And when it seem like things just ain't gon' be right
I gotta thank my creator for letting me sleep last night.
And wake me up in the morn 'cause I shutter to think
That could be me dead, or locked away in the clink,
So I'm lifting my homie's spirits as tall as the trees,
And I can even hear him calling me, in the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Having a gang of fun, and much too young to be wicked.
'Cause when I was thirteen you know we didn't have cars.
It was either double ride the peg nuts, or hop on the handle bars.
And then we went and bought a gang of balloons and had
A water balloon fight that lasted until the night.
Then after that we played some "hide and go get it"
With the neighborhood homegirls dumb enough to be with it.
All in fun and games and keeping it cool,
But my, my, when you're kicking it, time flys by;
'Cause every hour's a minute, and every minute's a sec.
And if I'd came home late my moms would ring my neck, yeah,
But I regret not the whoopings I got.
'Cause to be able to play the next day was okay.
On a mission, to hit up the neighbor's fruit trees;
Just a bunch of kids chillin', enjoying the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Summer breeze, flowing like the wind;
Boy, you need to know that you got a friend.
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
Now I'm growing some fuzz; getting older - like seventeen, eighteen,
And the only thing I know is to stay clean.
T-shirt, short pants, Nikes on spotless.
I was even old enough to buy me a Cutlass;
A little vehicle to ride around town, play with the hos, and
Roll down the window and mack to the one who's chosen.
Yo, them biker pants is looking kinda right on you.
My name is DJ Quik, and my homies is having a barbeque.
Before I finish my whole sentence complete,
She was off the bus stop and in my passenger seat.
And we was sliding to the Westside, stopped at the store
To get some farm; 'cause that make 'em kick it a little more.
And at the spot, you know that chicken was kicking.
The pig on the grill, and, so, the day was chill,
But that night my girl was tipsy and ready to skeeze,
But I didn't even trip; too busy jocking the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Now I'm twenty-three, and I remember the times when
We was chillin' like villians and didn't have no nines.
Like when we used to mob to beaches to kick it and swim.
Now I hang around and watch the tides come in,
And I'm thinking how many funerals I've been to.
Watching all my homies get buried in them boxes they put 'em into.
And then I read a letter from upstate, from my homie G-Wayne,
Who's been locked up since '87, '88.
And it really ain't nothing fly about it,
So he go: "I'm a stay strong, or I'm a break down and simply cry about it."
And when it seem like things just ain't gon' be right
I gotta thank my creator for letting me sleep last night.
And wake me up in the morn 'cause I shutter to think
That could be me dead, or locked away in the clink,
So I'm lifting my homie's spirits as tall as the trees,
And I can even hear him calling me, in the summer breeze.
[Chorus]