SODMG
Soulja Boy
Foreign!
SOD, SOD uh
Blow a pack!
The streets talkin, my name buzzin
My team guapin, all into nothing
We getting money, yea we stackin cheese
So homey let me free
I gotta say
I got a pack, got a pack
I gotta say
Runnin up a pay
I gotta say, yea I gotta say
I got a pack pack trunnin up a chick
Got a sack, yea I got a sack
I got a pack, yea I got a pack
Got a sack, runnin up a chick
I got a pack pack, runnin up my chick
Yea I got a sack, Gucci backpack
Walk up in the club with my swag back
90K on bottles, goddamn Soulja on
And I’m sellin dope, stay off the flex full
Walkin in the club (wut?)
You know what time it is
Poppin hella bottles, all my niggas in this bitch
Yea we in this bitch, we ain’t goin home
Pulled up, new Lambo on chrome
Soulja got the juice, birds in the coupe
Double cup my Styrofoam, pouring up a doo
Flexin on a foe, Rollie on my wrist
Me and my niggas, yea we all rich
Yea we all rich and we count them guap
Yea we count them racks, yea we count them stacks
Yea we count the guata, pour it in the backpack
Yea we count that guata, throw it in my duffle bag
Yea I got a sack, yea I got a pack
Yea I got a sec, runnin up a check
Yea I got a sack, yea I got a pack
Yea I got a sec, runnin up my check
Yea I got a sack, yea I got a pack
Yea I got a sec, runnin up a fuckin check
Yea I got a sack, yea I got a pack
Yea I got a sec, runnin up my check