Missing Summers

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Harry Fraud

Rory William Quigley (born January 26, 1987), known professionally as Harry Fraud, is an American record producer and composer. Primarily a hip hop producer, Fraud began producing at an early age and began interning at a recording studio after graduating high school. First discovered by French Montana during a recording session in Chinatown in early 2009, Fraud has gone on to become a fixture in the New York underground and mixtape scene. He gained mainstream attention when his song with French Montana "Shot Caller" became one of the most added tracks on urban contemporary radio between 2011-2012.Fraud has produced collaborative records with various rappers, such as Flight 2011 (2011) with Chinx Drugz; Rugby Thompson (2012) with Smoke DZA; Cigarette Boats (20… more »

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Intro (Dark Lo)

Hey Sims lets go man, shit is crazy
Turn me up too

Verse 1 (Dark Lo)

You know exactly what I came for 
The scene better when the rain pour
F*ck around and rearrange bul
Good girl, she became a whore
Hood girl and it made me sore
My mans sister and he went up North
They gave him letters when he went to court
Got beat up and then he switched the sport
I speed up like I'm in a Porsche
My feet up. I was in my thoughts
I heat up, you turn to a corpse
Survival of the fittest for my name, God is my witness
Im glidin' like physics 
Shorty chew me like gizzards
I bright the toolie it's a blizzard
I'm staying' loyal 
Then admit it don't you, the first body haunts you
Homicide wants you, who else to run to
I'm a young Sun Tzu
This is sunburn, this is something new
This is sucker proof, you a substitute (fall back)
I'm fully loaded, I feel like you bogus
Im feeling like the coldest, this feel like Covid (sick)
Shit real in my city boy, you better tote it
Make a movie or light shit, episode it

Chorus 1 (Boldy James)

Putting up numbers
 My niggas missing summers
All my niggas fresh as f*ck, I could drip a puddle 
Scrape another pot, I'm trying to really bubble
Now all my karma catching up, now I know who I really f*ck with
Got it off the muscle, really in the jungle 
The way your family set you up tell me who really love you
On that Ricky Rozay, cause everyday I hustle 
And ain't no tellin' what to come because i'm really thuggin'

Verse 2 (Boldy James)

Part up a three in the tahitian, lost two of my creatures
In the last couple of days the family been grievin'
They took one of my closest niggas, and put two in his dome
The third time i went to jail was with Pook and Jerome
The sent my nigga Pook upstate, did a deuce for the chrome
Seen my nigga Rome laid out in a funeral home
From one bullet in the neck, left his 2 kids behind
He killed three four niggas and never did no time 
The last three people he robbed two of em pressed charges 
One of em died they had a shootout in a red charger
Two weeks ago I seen the car window with spider webs
Burned up in a field with three bullet holes in the drivers side
Two days ago nephew got questioned by the homicide
They looking for him and his older brother on his momma's side
You know the one who talk a lot and be doin the most
Don't ever post them guns up, but keep two in the tote

Verse 3 (Dark Lo)

The four pound was a stick, I'm in your town then I skip
Solo, Greyhound, you never did that shit
Hi fives with the liqs', I'm in the crib at the Six
Was in the hood kissing babies, and taking flicks
It's Charlie Pope, I'm fully woke 
Fully had a scope, I'm the best against the ropes
She felt my vibe, then I hit her throat
I'll probably hit ya coat
Was in the field, young nigga, streets was the culture

Chorus 2 (Boldy James)

Putting up numbers
 My niggas missing summers
All my niggas fresh as f*ck, I could drip a puddle 
Scrape another pot, I'm trying to really bubble
Now all my karma catching up, now I know who I really f*ck with
Got it off the muscle, really in the jungle 
The way your family set you up tell me who really love you
On that Ricky Rozay, cause everyday I hustle 
And ain't no tellin' what to come because i'm really thuggin'

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