Key: C major•
Intro 1
Fm
Verse 1
whoa whoa whoa whoa!
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!
Verse 2
I got no choice but to be a rider
I approach you boy with the toaster boy
Hit you point blank range and fire
I ain't tryin' to hear shit I'm
supposed to be rich
Mu'fuckers gettin' with my bread
Then I'm 'gon load my shit
then count my shit
Nigga trip I'll go for your head
Verse 3
tellin ya hold on
The choir in your funeral singin you so long
The top shotta that rock
product the block gotta
Then pop hollows then pop bottles
the whole spot up
The mo' paper the mo'
strength we 'gon get it
The fo' fifth come with the
amp we ain't missin
I'm back on my bullshit a
verse is a full clip
Catch you with your bitch throw
a song in your new whip
Verse 4
Like syphillis bitch you stuck with this
I'm on you, niggas, die behind mine
Even if 50 drop me I still wouldn't sign
You done lost yo' mind,
bumped yo' head
Try to stop my shine but I got bread
And I ain't got time,
to hear what they said
When I catch them cowards
I'm a buss they head
Verse 5
I got no choice but to be a rider
I approach you boy with the toaster boy
Hit you point blank range and fire
I ain't tryin to hear shit I'm supposed
to be rich
Mu'fuckers gettin with my bread
Then I'm 'gon load my shit
then count my shit
Nigga trip I'll go for your head
Verse 6
you know I'm raw
Big ass check, they show our score
Put a dough out and roll out,
the cream is off
Fo'- fo' out,
I know 'bout the keizer war
I'm hot - five hunnid degress or more!
My door block an m16 or more
I'm in the store copin shit
you ain't seen before
Black card swipe, we galore
Verse 7
talkin then stop worryin
The feds keep comin,
the money we buryin
I'm in a mean loft,
I'm in the cream porsche
I let that thing off, I turn to t- wolf
I drive a spaceship, nigga 2008 shit
? kicks on, I stay in some eight shit
Niggas on some apeshit, they all get hit
Got the russian ak, haitian flag on the clip
Verse 8
I got no choice but to be a rider
I approach you boy with the toaster boy
Hit you point blank range and fire
I ain't tryin to hear shit I'm supposed
to be rich
Mu'fuckers gettin with my bread
Then I'm 'gon load my shit
then count my shit
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