[Verse 1: Roddy Rackzz]
I'm in this bitch and I'm smellin' like residue
I got them pounds and them sticks and I'm tellin' you
I don't be dissin' on songs, that's subliminal
I'm not a rapper, I'm really a criminal
I got them Dracs on Dracs, is you kiddin' me?
I might Givenchy and Louis from Italy
I got some shit I can't put in my visuals
I send them robbers and goblins to visit you

[Verse 2: YBS Skola]
I know I'm failin' if I take it fiscal
I sip on lean every day, this shit critical
Send my young n***as to come and get rid of you
Get that boy out of here, don't leave him critical
I'd never stick to that music, I run up them M's but lie like the criminal way
Vicky like you on parole, you ain't 'posed to be smokin', "Bitch, shut up and give me the J"

[Verse 3: Roddy Rackzz]
Bitch, I'm the heart of the trap, I'm the energy
I get so high, it's gon' fuck up my memory
I got five bricks, it's my wrist and extendo pieces
I got one Glock, all these shots like it's ten of me
I'm ballin' like Kobe, this Rollie a President
I'm out of Wock' but designer's my medicine
I told my label "Need millions, no settlin'"
I just locked twenty-five racks in the F&N
[Verse 4: YBS Skola]
I'ma take fifty thousand and buy a whole bunch of [?] and make that shit jump
It's me and Roddy, the realest and richest, [?] the kitchen and dirty the dishes
I'll buy your girl what she got on her wishlist, if she got some good head, she done know my business
If you gon' cap, then start countin' money, run through them bands and make a decision

[Chorus: Roddy Rackzz]
Count, count (Yeah), I need a rubberband
Count, count, trappin', my gun at hand
Count, count, run it up, run it up
Count, count, I got a paper counter

[Verse 5: YBS Skola]
Run that shit up to the maximum
I came from [bippin'?] them plays in the maximum
I know some stash you'll know in a Honda
I keep my baby, I call her Loana
Light a man up and I bet he a goner
I'm somethin' vicious, just like a piranha
I had a Glock on me while I was performin'
It had it on me, throw money at Norma's
I'm really rich but I act like I'm normal
I come from them corners, we was out on the mornin'
Huh, we was out on them stormin'
I'd never think I'd run it all the way up to an AP
While you was snorin', I was huggin' that block, n***a, hustlin' crazy
Now I'm gettin' money, I keep ten thousand on me daily
[Chorus: Roddy Rackzz]
Count, count (Yeah), I need a rubberband
Count, count, trappin', my gun at hand
Count, count, run it up, run it up
Count, count, I got a paper counter

[Verse 6: Roddy Rackzz]
No, I don't be on no rappin' shit
I'm in the trap and I'm tryna get a package in
Dracos and Glocks, they accurate
[?]
I really come from the traffickin', I got a plug and I'm charged like a battery
I really come from the traffickin', I got a Glock with a switch on the back of it
I really charge like a battery, I got a plug and I'm charged like a battery
I got a plug and he mad at me, I got a plug and he mad I be rappin'
I'm really spendin' your salary, I done seen hunnids of pounds in the cabinet
We really be [?] savages, me and young Skola, we not on no rappin' shit