NBA

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