This is a song about "Popping homies"

Rapping about champagne, and popping on the plane

Got the fridgedest temperature on my wrist again

Because there ain't no coming back from that

We're just popping pills yea that real shit

Out here fucking bitches popping bands

I got a green bag with them blue strands

I think you and your friends

Homies could get they dividends

These chalance give me balance

3 homies chilling making classics

I'm rappin' for the scholars and the hustlers, meanwhile

Popping lame rappers, i'll hit ya dome with caps, and style's dire,

Popping some pills, like neo in the matrix

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips