Drop a 4 Lyrical lemonade Let Fonem out at yo crib They running out like Minute Maid Smoke exotic gas likes it from outside the USA Track runners 900 These ain't shit but throw away The bitch steady talkin' bout her bills I told her go away My homies moving weight They only worried about the DEA And my neck be wetter Than a bitch that's tryna fuck today My niggas shoot they ass off They could've joined the NBA One call and they sliding We throw more bullets than Madden Bitches think that they conniving They try something they might die today VV up my teeth Exotic hoe my passenger seat 2,3 car notes on my feet I'm off that wok right now but Wide awake