| This a vibe, man
|
| Gucci Mane, they say you’re crazy, I understand (It's Guwop)
|
| Only one way to go is up
|
| Heads up at all times
|
| Mr. East Atlanta, huh
|
| Yeah, huh
|
| They call me Fiji water
|
| Haha, burr
|
| Mike WiLL on the beat, Evil Genius, contemplatin', huh, huh (Burr)
|
| When the club close, when the hoes go
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| When the dope go out the dope-hole
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| Hit a lick, sell a brick, fold that money up
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| Tryna stack my money 'til I can’t fold it up
|
| Tryna stack my money 'til I can’t fold it up
|
| I was a jit full of shit tryna sell a brick (Huh)
|
| Just a knucklehead nigga from the projects (Huh)
|
| Niggas sleepin' on me, they kept sendin' death threats
|
| Like that Gucci Mane can’t come in with a slick left (Shh)
|
| Man, I was jabbin' with the right, man, my whole life
|
| They said that, «Gucci Mane, you’re crazy, uncircumcised» (Haha)
|
| I whip that dick off on that bitch, she said, «Surprise, ho» (Yeah)
|
| I said, «I'm thinkin' so crazy, I got a mastermind» (Wizzop)
|
| I got so much money, my money doin' backflips
|
| I made it flip again and then it made me happy
|
| I made an Elliot today, they call it trappin'
|
| I might just smile, I’m your dog, fashion (Haha)
|
| I put the Atlantic on my skin, did that shit again
|
| The Evil Genius, you can’t touch me, not even kick my shin
|
| They say, «Doc, what’s goin' on in your dirty mind?»
|
| That bitch so fine, when she doin' all the time
|
| You saw them bring her out, what’s this going on?
|
| My money long, long, long, long, real long (Long)
|
| My money longer than the adlibs on every song (Burr)
|
| My money, it got it goin' on (Yeah)
|
| When the club close, when the hoes go
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| When the dope go out the dope-hole
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| Hit a lick, sell a brick, fold that money up
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| Tryna stack my money 'til I can’t fold it up
|
| Tryna stack my money 'til I can’t fold it up
|
| (Patta)
|
| I grew up inner-city side of towner (Ooh)
|
| Get me out the mud, tag, bitch, what held me down, sir
|
| Me and my niggas in the trap pound-for-pounder
|
| Keep your head above water, fuck that, I’m a founder (Fuck that)
|
| These hoes down here legs open, pussy drowned ya (Swish)
|
| Was always pullin' guns on them niggas who wasn’t from 'round here
|
| Runnin' off with funds, AK drum, that’s an out-of-bounder (Damn)
|
| Have your moms in a black dress puttin' you in the ground, sir
|
| Your baby mama head was so good, had to crown her
|
| Weed you was smokin', it make no noise, mines louder
|
| So much drip, drip, drip, drip, money flip, flip, flip
|
| All the designer on me pimpin', your girl mouth dick stick (Ooh)
|
| When the club close, when the hoes go
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| When the dope go out the dope-hole
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| Hit a lick, sell a brick, fold that money up
|
| Fold that money up, fold that money up
|
| Tryna stack my money 'til I can’t fold it up
|
| Tryna stack my money 'til I can’t fold it up |