เนื้อเพลง Supa Dupa Lemonade - Big Sean

[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 n*gga 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 f*cking with the newest n*gga best out
Go on, roll that weed n*gga, cause I'm stressed out
L-V checked out
Bad b*tch, chest out
No wonder why Mrs. Righteous keeps on getting left out
Oh well that's everything I'm not concerning, f*ck 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 n*gga gone fishing
Man and I be on them posters like that n*gga gone missin'
And I spit that er-retarded sh*t just call it autism
I'm so Hollywood that I might make your b*tch audition
Before we cut
Cut, cut
Movie time, cut
I'ma d*ck her down, you gon' pick her up
And I'm unusual as sh*t
I'm Superbad, your girl probably doodling my d*ck
And it's a couple screws up in my head that could use a f*cking wrench
And I'm just looking at the game like
Damn, they could use a f*cking bench, b*tch
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 f*ck these rappers sound like
Just a whole bunch of my sound bites
First whip, garbo
Second whip, Largo
Don't worry bout my n*ggas 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 b*tches
Since we finna blow, I bet they finna blow n*gga
Two pounds of weed, don't act like you don't know n*gga
I put that green up, like mistletoe n*gga

[Outro]
Yeah boy, boy boy
Finally Famous in this, getting money
F-F ho
D-town
G.O.O.D. Music n*gga
Bangladesh
Say these n*ggas get off my d*ck
These n*ggas sit down