This is a song about "Four loko"

Tell by your handbag that boy don't do you right

This is story of my four days inside

I'm working on four dimensions

Jumped off the porch when i was like six

Some old bitch that we did before

I'm the answer like four

Four more tarts playing harps

Tire marks, tire marks

I show up with four hoes

Tryna stay clear of my foes

Or keep small it around four

You ain't gotta hit the club no more

But not with a four four, but with more of a score

You can try to walk inside my brain but i close the door