Supa Dupa Lemonade lyrics

[Intro]

I do it

Do it, do it

B-I G, Finally Famous getting money

G.O.O.D. music, look

What up Earl Mac

My nigga Tone say he so Westside

It's a damn shame

Me too, D-Town, D-Town

[Verse 1: Big Sean]

D-Town, Westside

Yeah I said it, Westside

But they yelling big so much

That you would thought it's Bed-Stuy

You are now fucking with the newest nigga best out

Go on, roll that weed nigga, cause I'm stressed out

L-V checked out

Bad bitch, chest out

No wonder why Mrs. Right just keeps on getting left out

Oh well that's everything I'm not concerning, fuck it

I'm on the top floor getting brains, higher learning

Getting higher earnings and my desires yearning

Running through that paper like my attorney

Hundred blunts rolled, you can smell the fire burning

I'm in the fast lane, you can smell my tires burning

Exercise, flex on guys

Model chick

Sex on thighs

Bump a lot

A Lexus drive

I might let Alexis drive

Jesus chain, testify

I over accessorize

Test her out, now she gon' need a stretcher when I stretch her out

When it's time to speak, bet all of ya'll listen

When you up in the party

Why is all the broads missing

And I just drop lines like a nigga gone fishing

Man and I be on them posters like that nigga gone missin'

And I spit that er-retarded shit just call it autism

I'm so Hollywood that I might make your bitch audition

Before we cut

Cut, cut

Movie time, cut

I'ma dick her down, you gon' pick her up

And I'm unusual as shit

I'm Superbad, your girl probably doodling my dick

And it's a couple screws up in my head that could use a fucking wrench

And I'm just looking at the game like

Damn, they could use a fucking bench, bitch

And my name all up in the rafters

She gon' make me cum, I bet that money come faster

Kanye first, then I'm coming after

And Lou' Vuitton shoes ho

Dons and the Jaspers

Who her, I ran through her walls

Made her scream and disappear but hell no my name is not Casper

Boy, what the fuck these rappers sound like

Just a whole bunch of my sound bites

First whip, garbo

Second whip, Largo

Don’t worry bout my niggas Thurgood Marshall

Bank account got me feeling Well, Fargo

Balling til I get a Milicic Darko

I did that

I just give them line after line, after line

After line, after line barcode

They looking for my work, Narco

Cause I just black out in the booth, charcoal

Me, Don C, Tone and fifty-four bitches

Since we finna blow, I bet they finna blow nigga

Two pounds of weed, don't act like you don't know nigga

I put that green up, like mistletoe nigga

[Outro]

Yeah boy, boy boy

Finally Famous in this, getting money

F-F ho

D-town

G.O.O.D. Music nigga

Bangladesh

Say these niggas get off my dick

These niggas sit down