Interlude

[Intro]
(Whiteboy came with the bag like it's Christmas)

[Verse]
I got money, cars, clothes
I bought a chopper, I take it to show
You know I'm on the road when I get in that mode
I tell ma take the road, you know we next to blow
And I knew it was up when I got my first load
I make more off the load what I get for a show
Still in the streets, speak this shit from my soul
Still in the streets, speak this shit from my soul
Nigga still rapping, still trapping like I ain't got shit
All I do is trap, ball, hit the booth and pop shit
Walk in the building, weed got me fucking up my profit
I ran up my money now a nigga feeling cocky
Can't nobody stop me, wrist looking rocky
I'm a shooting star, these Amiris where the Glock be
Catch another body, I can't wait for you to try me
Baby, I'm the wave, I should've named my tape tsunami
You fucking with the realest, richest youngin, you hit the lottery
Why I got this forty and this chopper? 'Cause I gotta be
When I go to sleep, I got that chopper right beside of me
Same niggas love me is the same niggas doubted me
Roddy Rackzz be flowing so insane, he the prodigy
Prada bucket, Prada tee, I know these niggas proud of me
Giving you the best of me, you know I got the recipe
If I ain't in the mall, I'm probably in the booth or selling weed