Heatwave - Backburner

This is your brain on sunshine, sunrays

The heat raise the roof roll your windows open if you

Please stick out your breeze, we’re cooking something fresh

With The Burner in the heatwave, in the heatwave

Putting in work on the perfect day

Shirt soaked in the shade while I perspirate

Heat waves on the pavement, verses layed

Chirp cicadas, engaged in a purple haze

Scorching tracks when the Burner plays

Pour the gas until we burn the place

Percolate burnt ash that’ll hurt your face

Shot a crater through your posse like hot butane

Not too tame, keep watch for cute dames

Got booze, spit exhaust like blue flames

Stop dude, not gona prostitute fame

Too hot, we too great to stop, we too strange

Smash, thwip, snikkety-snit

Striking the country like picketing hicks

Lickety-split, tickety-tick-tock you don’t stop

Like lava that won’t rock, the flow’s hot

Enough to get the Dregs from the basement

Cooking some eggs on the pavement

Hot spit like Greekfest

Smoking like girls on Queen St West

Dip, dip, dive, I’m swimming to Shanghai

Out cooling like moms' lemon meringue pie

Got the women on standby, waiting just to

Talk to me about my feminist philosophy

When you learn to help, the girls’ll melt

With a rack so hot the bra burns itself

Yeahhhh, we turn it out

Heat’s the only thing we’re concerned about

And that’s check;

I’m about to win in one turn

Lamping on a rock with my skin all sunburned

Yowtch!

The only way I surf is on a couch

With the tip of my tongue putting words in your mouth, haha!

Sweatshop got me in a headlock

We let it pop til the block is red hot

Next stop, chopping heads off

Wanna get props?

Hit the god with a guest spot

Sweat, sweat, work it out

Let me know what’s on your mind

And it don’t hurt to shout

I’m on a purple drought, yeah, the green, too

And these a couple things that put me in a mean mood

Would it seem rude if I rolled through the club late

And didn’t give you props cause I’m in a drug state of mind

I got problems, baby, no funds, I don’t wanna get a job, I’m lazy

So I write my rhymes down, spit ‘em with passion

Just hoping y’all can feel it, that’s all I’m asking

35 degrees and the sun is blasting

Basketball jerseys is still the fashion

I don’t even know if they heard me laughing

Wipe the smirk off their mouth with a dirty napkin

Jay Bizzy got skills, I’m a worthy champion

Why I’m living in a sauna and not a mansion

When Tim’s on the beat, even in the heat I got

Tim’s on my feet;

over zebra stripes from the

Sandal steez;

Believe the hype from the

Scandal sheets;

you get dandled on the knee

Achtung!

Gonna be a hot one

Got drunk last night but I’m not done

Shotgun, don’t forget some

Road pops stop and cop tons

Ultraviolet violent outcomes

Get that SPF or get sunned

Son, have you learned a lesson

Sir, yes certs need extra retsyn

So, who’s bringin' the heat

That melts Popsicles Petes into liquid treats

Picture defeat than I kick up my feet

Take a trip to the beach to chill with the beat

It’s a dog day afternoon, the bad crew

Be Backburner, Jack, you’re wack like Pat Boone

In back rooms we slap hands, crack the brews

Fabricate rap tunes that you can’t produce