Longing for those summer night's

Man, what a time can be had on hot summer nights, everybody coming and going from every which way, north, south, east, west, their jamming their foot down on old rubber, blasting to get some place cool.
Don’t matter if it’s four, eight, six, flat, slant, inline, it’s gassed and ready to run. Hoodlums and chicks, they dig it like that, fast and furious waiting on that flag to drop and rubber to burn.
Chilling and grooving to finger snapping sounds that are out of this world. Wrenching and benching under mid summer nights, Daddy-O it don’t get no better than that.