Texty písní Big Sean Finally Famous Vol. 3: BIG Supa Dupa Lemonade

Supa Dupa Lemonade

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D-Town, Westside, Yeah I said it westside
But they yellin' Big so much, that you would thought it's Bed Stuy
You are now f-ckin with the newest nigga best out,
Gon' and roll that weed nigga (Why) Cuz' I'm stressed out,
L.V checked out, Bad b-tch chest out (them titties)
No wonder why Mrs. Right just keeps on gettin left out,
Oh well, that's everything I'm not concernin (f-ck it)
I'm on the top floor gettin' brains, Higher learnin
Gettin higher earnings and my desires yearning,
Runnin through that paper (What) like my Attorney
100 blunts rolled, You can smell the fire burnin,
I'm in the fast lane, You can smell my tires burnin,
Exercise, Flex on guys, Model chick,
Sex on thighs, bubble out a Lexus drive
I might let Alexis drive,
Jesus chain testify, I over-accessorize,
Test her out and she gon need a stretcher when I stretch her out
When it's time to speak man all of ya'll listen, When you up in the party
Why is all the broads missin, And I just drop lines
Like a nigga goin fishin, Man and I be on them posters like a nigga gon missin
And I spit (Scratch) that retarded sh-t, Just call it autism
And I'm so Hollywood that I might make yo bitch audition
For me, Cut-Cut, Movie town Cut, Look I'ma dick her dooowwwnnn, You gon
Pick her up,
And I'm unusual as sh-t, I am Superbad yo' girl prolly
Doodlin my d-ck, And it's a couple screws up in my head that
Could use a f-ckin wrench, and I'm jus lookin at the game like they can use
A f-ckin bench, (bitch) and my name all up in the rafters, She gon
Make me cum, but I bet that money come faster, Kanye first,
Then I'm comin after, and Louis Vuitton shoes hoe,
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
Dons and the Jaspers.
Who, her? I ran through her walls,
Made her scream and disapear, But hell naw my name is not Casper,
Boy, What the f-ck these rappers sound like, Ha just a whole bunch of my sound bites,
First whip Garbo, Second whip Largo,
Don't worry bout my niggas
They're good, Marshall,
Bank account got me feelin Well, Fargo,
Ballin 'till I get a milla-check, Darko,
I just give em line afta line, afta line afta... Afta line, afta line, Bar code,
They lookin for my work, Narco, Cuhz I just blackout in the booth,
Charcoal, Me, Don, C, Tone and 54 b-tches, The seeds finna blow,
I bet they finna blow nigga, 2 pounds of weed don't act like you don't nigga,
I put that green up like mistletoe nigga
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