This is a song about "Canada dry"

I got these dry fish telling lies, sinner,

Dream of the fame or a ring on her finger

Fresh to death, when i step, you can hear momma's cry

Face still dry, wasnt born wit shit fuk ya slice of pie

Dry land , but its my fucking

I got my wife, so fuck the ring

I’ll have no lies, rap’s so dry, i can’t stress it enough,

I pull up in that 'rari with them other ones

We get our chefin on, chefin on everyday

Doing cocaine, pretty dry on a church day

Carlcee magnifies, then sucks you until you're dry

We havin’ a celebration, love to stay high