Get the Strap
Rucci Shoreline Mafia Lyrics

Romo what you is? (Bitch, I'm rich), What you is? (Bitch I'm rich) what you is? (Bitch, I'm rich) , Bitch, I'm Rich (Bitch, I'm rich, ayy)
Romo is questioned about their social status, and they confidently reply that they are rich and successful.

Romo got a strap and Rucci got a strap, Ohgeesy got a strap and Fenix got a strap, ayy, ayy. Bitch, I'm back and I'm better, ayy, ayy. (Bitch, I'm back) Black MAC, black Beretta, ayy, ayy. (This a strap) Still trappin' out the Jetta, ayy, ayy. Serving crack I won't let up, ayy. A trendsetter, my homies into chin-checking. Big stepping in this bitch, with some big weapons, ayy. Go the wrong way down the one way, ayy. Put a nigga to bleep, free Gunplay (That's on Norf), ayy. Campin' out from Monday to Monday (What?) I'm mister ride by my lonely (Go). I feel like Tony in this bitch (Tony in this bitch). The world is mine, you say. You down, then show me, lil' bitch (You gotta show me, lil' bitch). I'm at the line, I'm Shootin' shit like Kobe, lil' bitch. With a long nose like Ginobili. I'm known to get rich and Bust down with my homies
The artists proclaim their street credibility and the weapons and drugs they possess. They also reference their loyalty to their crew and their ability to make money and be successful.

Ayy, I got a strap in my coupe. Bad bitch to the right fuck what you saying. Gettin' rich 'til I die. Gettin' money, gettin' high. Fuckin' bitches, living life. Do this every night, man, I can't get right. I got a strap in my coupe. Bad bitch to the right, ayy. Bitch, I'm mollied up and I'm Probably out my mind. I got a strap in my coupe. Bad bitch to the right, ayy. Bitch, I'm mollied up and I'm Probably out my mind, go
The artists brag about their opulent lifestyle and their possession of firearms while admitting to being under the influence of drugs and alcohol.

I'm with Rucci countin' uchies. Gettin' money out a groupie. Niggas hatin', bitches choosing. Get the unit's, then I move 'em. Percocets, you know I chew 'em. Think it's sweet until we shootin'. We done really made a Movement, not with music, talkin' unit's. Yeah, we rap it, but we do it. Ain't the same (Ain't the same) I done really came a long way From trips on that train (For real) I'ma drop another four and kill the pain (Kill the pain) Ever since I started ballin' I swear shit ain't been the same
The artists boast about their drug dealing and the money they are making from it. They claim to have established a successful criminal enterprise that doesn't depend on their music career. The pain they have experienced is eased by the money they are making, and their newfound wealth has changed their life for good.

Instagram bitch gettin' flown out for dick. I'ma blow her back out with The blower on my hip. I'ma fuck her through the zipper. I can't never trust a bitch. I'ma trap like forever I been trappin' since a jit. I'ma shoot it out the whip. She be droolin' on my dick You pay her rent But we with your bitch foolin' at her crib Test Norf, ballin', need a court I just poured a fourth and I nut on this whore I want a million so I'm finna go on tour Pull the stick out Flame a nigga like some smores She washing all the dishes She doing all the chores She brought all her friends but I Told her bring some more HellaWave to the core, Walgreens, I'ma score He still pourin' ones My lil' nigga poured a four
The artists brag about their sexual exploits and their willingness to engage in criminal activities. They talk about their success in drug dealing and their desire for more wealth. They also mention their power over women and their pleasure in demeaning them. Finally, they mention their financial success, translating it into a victory over their enemies and an opportunity to enjoy life.