Yeah Put the cucumber in the vodka It's a cruel summer, it been hot bruh Mom claim italian, pops a city jew They was both more pasta than latkes Pops always said: Watch your posture He ain't know my shoulders held lots up Used to hold me in the mirror Say I was champ of the world, shit wasn't gossip, no Accurate forecast Lookin for it, don't need more passion Puttin' rappers in the compost 'cause can't afford any more trash I don't got anymore passes, feel compassion slippin' away All this savageness in a cage Whole culture is mma Watch the lightning in the clouds, everything pretty till it hits earth Our construction is destruction, tell me really what's the shit worth? What's the purpose for a wordsmith if the doors They supposed to open 'bout to be permanently closed in? Is it really all just for coping? Put the cucumber in the vodka It's a cruel summer, it been hot bruh Mom claim italian, pops a city jew They was both more pasta than latkes Pops always said: Watch your posture He ain't know my shoulders held lots up Used to hold me in the mirror Say I was champ of the world, shit wasn't gossip On my own, I don't got a roster Dread on my mind like a rasta Stressed all the time, pull the sauce up Young redundant, never puntin' 4th and long, always find a way I'll be strong my own kinda way I be strong my own kinda way Shit, that's all I been tryna say If you got a problem wit' me I don't really gotta care no more Ooh I'm gon' walk in my peace I don't gotta interfere no more Who want it? Bitch, I ain't no newcomer Cool as the cucumber in the vodka, baby It's a new summer I don't got a new number Bitch, I got the same doggone line Might be hard to find though Somewhere lost in my mind Still gon' be the champ though Still gon' be the champ Still gon' be the champ though Still gon' be the champ Still gon' be the champ though Still gon' be the champ Even if it ain't a world left, baby I'll be damned, uh