 Welcome to Fulton Industrial Boulevard, the armpit of Atlanta, Georgia. Home with a pimp's, hoes, players, prostitutes, rappers, strip clubs. And don't forget about the dope boy, Shouter. And the fat asses, bro. And the Roach Motel. I know I had near Coke 45 around here somewhere. What the hell is my moat liquor? I know one of the Roaches ain't take my goddamn moat liquor. Hey, what's up, people? My name's Ray The Roach, and I'm what you might call a rebel. I live inside the walls of this dirty motel with my two best friends. My always hungry and always horny homie Rico. Hey, what's up, guys? Since you got her a dog, is she finally gonna let you in her doggy door? What? You know, her doggy door. And my cousin Rosco the troublemaker. Hell no, I ain't goin' in there. Rosco, are you hurt? No, I'm good, sis. But I can't move. Why not? Cause I'm on my back. You know Roaches can't get up a day on their backs? Oh yeah, you're right. And this is my beautiful ride-a-die girlfriend, Lala. I'm coming with you. No way. It's too dangerous. Exactly. You think I'm gonna let you go out there with these two idiots? You need me to watch it back. Nah, we can handle it. Is there something on my shirt? Or something stings? And my back feels wet. Nah, shawty, you good? You're right. The life of a Roach is a struggle. We risk our lives every day, just so we can survive. Goddamn show-offs. Damn, Lauren got a fat ass. Now the outside world is a huge and crazy place. And the Motel Onestand has no problem smashing us on site. We even gotta watch out for our own kind. Shit, we even got a neighborhood superstar. Welcome to the Roach Motel.