Clap Clap

Nita, Nita Nita Nita

Damn, look. Look

Now why that metronome sound like his wrist watch?

He say he got a Rollie, but that hoe go tick tock

Going to Cali, rest in Vegas for the Pit stop

We rich forever, little Roddy and some Rick Ross

We need it tip top shape

Applying pressure, we ain't off it till that motha fucka break

And we want all the beef, been prepared for high stakes

I say, "Whatchu tryna do?"

He say "Whatever it take, to make you drop down to the Floor, and make that m*tha f*cka quake "

Like Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap

And throw it back B*tch!

Had to remind em', that he f*cking with a savage

I pull up on ya, and I change ya life drastic

He talking crazy, but he blamed it on the acid

Baby you cappin, but I ain't trippin on ya

Like my style I got my drip from California

Packed my bags and then I brought it all to NOLA

This shit ain't average baby

I thought I told ya, I thought I told ya

And I prayed for this, so I put in work, Habitual

Flipped da bread, do it again just like a ritual

Hit my Two step B*tch, for my Feng shui

Melrose Cruisin, he gon do whatever I say

Throw a stack (stack)

Stack stack stack

A few Racks!