[Intro]
(We got London on the track.)

[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
Ayyyy
Fifty Large in a rubber band (Damn)
Gucci cook the dope with his left hand (Skurrr)
Fifty straps in a fucking van (Brah)
We let them fuckas blahm
When we pull up, goin ham
Smoke a hundred grams, throw a hundred grand
Pour a half a pint in the ocean cran (Mud)
Heinz 57, n***as wanna gram
The dope so good the salsa make you wanna lick ya hand

[Verse 1: Strap]
In the trap house, im with big gucci (Guwop)
Fifty scraps in the bag, we got ten uzis
I got three cellphones, all my lines ringin (hello?)
I got 4 chains on, vvs's blingin (shine)
In the kitchen water whippin, pourin up the syrup
Hundred bags of the midget, comin' on the 3rd
Audemars Piguet, had to flood it out (ice)
Rich n***a, but I still got a gold mouth
Racks on top of racks, n***a i'm talkin M's
Got them young n***as with straps, they shoot F N's
Yeah a country boy, tell em wait in line
Get that cash by any means, juggin all the time
[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
Ayyyy
Fifty Large in a rubber band (Damn)
Gucci cook the dope with his left hand (Skurrr)
Fifty straps in a fucking van (Brah)
We let them fuckas blahm
When we pull up, goin ham
Smoke a hundred grams, throw a hundred grand
Pour a half a pint in the ocean cran (Mud)
Heinz 57, n***as wanna gram
The dope so good the salsa make you wanna lick ya hand

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
Ball so hard my friends say I shouldn't have done it (huh?)
Spent a million last year, yeah on some dumb shit
Spent two million last week, yeah having fun bitch
Spent two million last year, icin' out my whole clique (buurrr)
Spent 20 million in my life, I'm a rich dude
If i get it to ya on the Greyhound, that's logistics
Got ya girlfriend shittin dog food, realistic
Got a half a pint of lean in the cup, yeah i pissed it
N***as say that they trynna stop the wop, got me twisted
Lil Darrell got retarded ass watch, like he's gifted
And that Moussan that you seen in the troop, yeah i flipped it (Catch up)
Red with the red forgies, n***a shoulda peeped it (Forgies)
Got this FN on me homey, fuck it i can't keep a secret
Im on designer all type of day, but yeah im sellin cheap shit
Cheap worker, a re-rocker all day, i got them cheap bricks
Louis shoes on when i run up on em, check my feet bitch
Bally boots soon as i pull up on em, on that street shit
All my belts are horseshoe Ferragamo, you should listen
Gucci pull up, paddle shiftin' on em, pole position
[Chorus: Gucci Mane]
Ayyyy
Fifty Large in a rubber band (Damn)
Gucci cook the dope with his left hand (Skurrr)
Fifty straps in a fucking van (Brah)
We let them fuckas blahm
When we pull up, goin ham
Smoke a hundred grams, throw a hundred grand
Pour a half a pint in the ocean cran (Mud)
Heinz 57, n***as wanna gram
The dope so good the salsa make you wanna lick ya hand