Joey Skelly - Summer Shirt Lyrics

Damn straight, man, let me tell you what I think is right
Working class men all know how to party right
Day's work over, but nothin' on the television
Might as well call the gang up for an intermission

Party of eight walkin' in the club flexin'
Saucin' on the gig's last paycheck, raise that
"Specials all night", "shit, didn't know", "taste that"
Shot for shot, bitch we sloshed enough, now

Bring the gas over and we'll have ourselves a ball
Anthony got a black girl on the wall
Held himself up and he kept himself tall
Interracial memory, one for the Hall

Dorothy with the red heels on, won't you click it thrice
Frost all around, bet you think she'd try to check me twice
Brunette booty, best believe she 'cause an avalanche
Shawty like a bad bitch, bet you know we'll holla at

Aye momma, aye momma, aye momma, aye
Shawty straight flexin' with the summer shirt, aye
Aye brotha, aye brotha, aye brotha, aye
Man, he off the work, flex your summer shirt, aye
Aye momma, aye momma, aye momma, aye
Shawty straight flexin' in them booty shorts, aye
Aye brotha, aye brotha, aye brotha, aye
Smoke me up, turn me up, fuck it up, aye

Sheesh, it's 2:15 in the mornin'
Young bucks never give a fuck, no warnin'
Tequila, no chaser, with the lime straight for ya
Smokin' on the wax, bet'll bring you euphoria

Everybody got a girl locked for the drive home
Bring it back to the hotel, bet she grab a bone
Party goes on and the Barbies still dancin'
Goldilocks has thrown off her top, now

Man, I won't rock designer shit, just my birthday suit
Sex-Ed back in session, it's an institute
Hit it with the high note, Skyy then Absolut
Tame the beast, it's complete when you taste my dragon fruit

I don't flex often, but, man, I feel myself
Collaborations hittin' hard with the bank account
Dior, Salvatore, Klein and H&M
Skater at heart, still got a killer fashion sense

Aye momma, aye momma, aye momma, aye
Shawty straight flexin' with the summer shirt, aye
Aye brotha, aye brotha, aye brotha, aye
Man, he off the work, flex your summer shirt, aye
Aye momma, aye momma, aye momma, aye
Shawty straight flexin' in them booty shorts, aye
Aye brotha, aye brotha, aye brotha, aye
Smoke me up, turn me up, fuck it up, aye

(Aye-yo turn it up)

Man, I feel like Aladdin, wishes granted
Boii send it to the top, bet the Prez will gladly verify
Day's work paid came, man sittin' wealthy
Pour me a glass, we can dip it in the Henny

Look at us now, citin' on the cusp now
If you can't believe how, I'ma show ya how
Try bring your cry, Boo-Hoo, face down, that'll get ya quick
Celebrate first with your favorite summer shirt

Aye y'all, thanks for tunin' in
Man, this shit got me goin'
Aye-yo, Billboard better pick this shit up, man
It's too funky to sit on the shelf, ya heard

Ah-eet, ah-eet, ah-aye
Ah-eet, ah-eet, ah-aye
Yah