YC! (What you got?) Racks on racks on (He got) on racks on racks (We got) Racks on on racks (Leggo) (Hey) We got on racks on racks (She got) Racks on on racks (They got) Racks on racks on
Got goin' so strong brain when I'm talkin' on the phone Spendin' money your money is long Real street niggas, no clone We at the top we belong Drink lean, rose, on a thousand dollars worth strong When the 'bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Got racks on on racks
Got racks on on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Racks on racks on Nigga, I ain't tryna hold back
YC
Still fresh, yeah, and in my Iced out, okay, Trapped up, know I that tool That racks on racks so fool All the globe, bein' on TV you look, you see YC Hatin'-ass niggas just they were me YC, YC, YC Way too big for my ma'fuckin' I'm so fly I don't got wings real low, just blame it on the green Girl cut up, got on lean That shoebox shit, with She put it on the rack, notice it My 'count, commas all over it on racks on racks
Young
Young, if it's convertible, how is it a hardtop? Bitch, I hit one button, my roof open like a hard Make me my diamonds up, bitch, my life was hard knock Had so much kush and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart night's a weekend, every day's a Friday night You ain't seen nothin' yet, bitch, this just my ice '87, fare, yeah, I'm talkin' thirty racks All I sold is hundos, where the fuck my at?
Wiz
Racks on, racks off, see blonde stripper, my hat's off Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty grand what cost Smoke I'm in Cali, fuck takin' flight, I blast off Niggas talkin' tattooes, we have a tat-off Got racks on racks on racks, naps on naps on Just made a mill, count another mill, so put that on top of Way back in 2004, I 'em it was a wrap Now my life ain't my life no more, I you, nigga, it's a wrap Oooh, you you a dog, my nigga, I'm the vet We can't even talk 'less you got the check, I guess that's why all of these niggas get They said "Fuck a nigga, fuck a young nigga" I know it's some girls in the crowd right now who fuck a young nigga I roll one and roll another one Niggas thinkin' they sick, well, I'm I'ma my weed and I'ma drink my liquor make sure you fuck your girl right 'fore I dick her
Waka Flocka
(Flocka!) I got on top of racks (Uh!), stacks on top of stacks (Uh!) Bands on top of bands (Uh!), got me her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!) Bad boys don't do papers (Flex!), was just for (Flex!) my haters (Clap!) (Clap, clap, go, go, go, go, go, Flocka!) Clap two times if you Got a bad bitch the U.K. (Okay!) She do I say (Okay!) Go crazy she hear music (Grove Street!) She got "Grove St." on (Flocka!) Got racks you understand (Uh-huh) Money long from here to (Uh-huh) it good when she go no hands Girl, you got me in a
Got campaign so strong brain when I'm talkin' on the phone Spendin' money when money is long Real niggas, ain't no clone We at the top we belong Drink lean, rose, Smokin' on a dollars worth strong When the club 'bout to this song
We got racks on on racks (Racks) Racks on racks on (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Got racks on on racks
Got racks on racks on (Racks) on racks on racks (Racks) Racks on racks on Nigga, I even tryna hold back
The Prynce
Got on racks on racks, y'all rap so wack on wax Purple by the pound, that Flacco, haaaa I big plays, I got big chips Blue money like six Switch like stick shifts as hell, no Big Kipp We buy cars, y'all whips Catch us smokin' that trip Pitch piff, that's a I like to call that a flip Pull like hamstrings Boy, I'm my damn thing Baby blood them bricks, pimp Get off a key like I can't Got the seven on me big jersey Ridin' round, and this dirty I'm the best, hands nicknamed me 6:30 I'm wit' Young and YC Road, that's my street Ask around on the I'm the
Bun B
Bun B, I'm king In the car on swang the top on drop and the trunk on pop Boy, you can't me a damn thang Fifth on the back just hang Hit corners, hit licks, hit With the in the front, wood wheel in the blunts You're on neon in my bank Yeah, I rep that One hundred, yeah, me If you recognize, you gon' see I'm a trill OG In a Cadillac, like a on clacks Try to and I will attack It's a fact that I ain't givin' up my like that
B.o.B
Call me Bobby Ray, but not two names Flyin' through the city, all-black, Bruce No, not bombs Baghdad But on the track, you can call me That's why they nervous, hmmm, like I'm flyin' on the plane with a But I'm fly, y'all just turbulence, exit row, (Mayday!) As a kid, I was by lightning, it's no wonder I'm electrifying Fuck a brainstorm, I'll around and cause a power outage And it ain't no rivals, if it was, it'd be no Just gimme a hour, I'll it up like an Eiffel Tower
Yo
Got bills on top of bills, on top of scales I'm Mr. All White, got yell' on top of Got pills all on my phone, these niggas know I'm Said 50 for a song, and they won't me 'lone Gotta me a brick, that ain't nothin' to you Just ran through a ticket, there ain't to do Yeah, I love streets like I love the booth Mr. Cocaine Music, I'm 100 Got white on on white, ice on ice on ice And I'm in the club it look like lights on lights on lights
Got campaign so strong Gettin' when I'm talkin' on the phone Spendin' when your money is long Real street niggas, ain't no We at the top we belong lean, rose, Patron Smokin' on a dollars worth strong When the club 'bout to this song
We got racks on on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Got racks on on racks
Got racks on racks on (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) on racks on racks Nigga, I ain't even tryna back
Racks on racks on racks, I'm smash and not call back My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, call you a cab Yeah, ridin' around wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. Reece and When I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune, I'm than alopecia skin I shows out, like dope when I put that down Like when I put my clothes on, I'm jokin', but I be Foamed out And all she want is more bags, but all I want is 1s I told her "Bring that money back" like all racks is Nordstrom's
Cory
The on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I strapped, then the gats on scat Then he black on 'em like Tae Bo, then he on 'em like bravo Throw sacks on 'em like y'all hoes, got racks on 'em tight hoes Young Money, Cash so strong, keep scorin', I'ma bring it on home Those and the lean cause zones, somethin' tan with a mean jawbone Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like four Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin' money since like fourth grade I'm the shit nowadays, so wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave Let you niggas know my gang, MCN if you was thinkin' it's a game See me the twin, buck a shimmy with the gauge bustin' Jimmy, I'd be busy gettin' paid Goin' for the every day 'til the grave I be worried chips, you be worried about the Lay's
Got in my Sprite, Benjamins in my Robins Frank Muller wit' ice, but I still got my brightness In the fast lane, gettin' slow brain in a Maserati I'm kickin', pimpin', like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin' Friday Puffin' on that garlic, sick off all the Inked up on my hands and arms, got jams in my pocket out to Sha Money, signed me in a hurry Daddy was a kingpin, a couple buried Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Corps stuntin' These exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the No, you can't afford 'em, than a swordsman Racks on racks, our strong, and YC like my brother
Mo
Catch me in the city with the trunk on Top dropped down, black on Fistful of wood, twisted for the Check my account, got racks on racks Look around, fool, got a wall full of Platinum and gold, you to love that Posted up just a thumbtack Better ya ho, 'cause she bound to get snatched H-Town, to ATL She got a fat ass, she prolly know me Keep it on the low, kiss and tell True player, Cory Mo as hell Shows to do, got records to Got a lotta BMI checks in the mail If ballin' was a crime, I'd be in Locked up for life like "What the hell?"
Got campaign so strong brain when I'm talkin' on the phone Spendin' money when your is long Real street niggas, ain't no We at the top we belong lean, rose, Patron Smokin' on a thousand worth strong When the 'bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on (Racks) on racks on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Got racks on racks on
Got racks on racks on (Racks) Racks on racks on (Racks) on racks on racks Nigga, I ain't tryna hold back
Yeah, they call me Country Grammar, my brother out the I'm crimson color painted, you can that Alabama I'm not from Alabama, but out how I roll tide He might have the same whip, but check out how I roll Y'all ain't no stars, y'all only in it for the cars The sky is your limit, mayne, and mine somewhere Mars I ride wit' boys in the middle of the map St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap Down to the Dirty, back up through the But the money don't stack, man, money Yeah, y'all better watch it, mayne, right we lock and load Two things is for certain, mayne, and one is fa sho' Got a house on hundred acres, I've seen my neighbors A in ATL and from Buckhead to Decatur Now y'all better leave me alone, got for my chrome Don't lease or your mama talkin' 'bout "Yo' baby gone!" Tell the truth, I gon' lie, I got so many rides Don't know which one I'ma drive, it, I'm just gon' fly
Everybody hate because I'm on, blowin' head back, bottles by the zone Twista get up on the track and spit it the way I do simp-a-ly because I like this song When I step up out the Maserati car, pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar Then I blow, I'ma close out the par', wit' some and everybody know who we are Get Money Gang through the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago Anybody get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon' make 'em pull the flo' Might as well get it off yo' chest, while everybody got ammunition on I don't see T-Dum-Izzle as a threat, 'cause I got racks on racks on racks Oh, Twista, I see your future, finna shoot ya, I salute you if you could get at the in my military Racks and racks and tracks and stacks and gats, I could destroy an village when I kill and bury 'Cause I manipulate your molecular structure, other words, 'em up wit' holes If you try to give it to me at the door, I just thought I had to let you
Big
(I bet bitch call me Big) I got single bitches tryin', married bitches I 'em to the crib and leave our future in a condom I wake up fresher these motherfuckers as is Look inside my closet, that shit look it's Raks Fifth Man, that's racks on racks on racks on top of on top of pounds My is pow on pow on pow, I'm off them trees, no eye, no ow I'm at the altar sayin' my vows to this Benjamin power You buy her a house, I buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I fell in her mouth They called her Dickface, she called her (Called her connect) You call her I to collect, no need for a pet If I throw this paper, yo' bitch fetch (Do it!) And the track be aight as long as we got me (I do it)
I'm the hood if you wondered I'm at (Where I'm at) In the back of a Chevy all black (All black) Racks on racks, I don't how to act (Act) Track and with the birds, I'm runnin' 'em like track (Track) Free of money, bet you can't blind (Blind) of the club, I bet you can't top (Top) Bitch niggas the fact I get guap (Guap) Or the fact the money go up, it won't stop (Boy!) I'm in the club, tryna 'em how to stunt (Stunt) Tryna pick up I'm throw, it prolly take about a month (Month) The underwater, have 'em runnin' out the front While I'm in the back, gettin' blowed like a blunt (Blunt) No to trip, you can tell 'em that I'm cool as hell (Cool as hell) 'Cause it's the I know the pack of pumas well (Pumas well) I'm a blood motherfucker, that tell (Dude'll tell) Got 47 the old-school as well (School as well) I got lights on my wrist flash like cop (Cops) Couple of foreign cars that I no top (Tops) Couple of whi-whips that I ride yachts (Yachts) A couple of haters lookin', I'm knowin' them hot (Hot) And tell 'em I don't give a damn Hard as a motherfucker, 'em I was HAM Call it what you want, do it for the fam Yeah, the type of nigga that I am
Ace
Okay, I'm back off this bitch (This bitch!) Wit' a cup, and it's full of that (Hot!) Got racks, ain't talkin' (Ew-way!) Big stacks, no bricks (Woo!) Hit a and a fiendin' nigga got it I keep that hottie, just look at her (Hey!) Blew twenty bands in that King of Sorry, just part of my hobby (Swoop!) And I 'em feelin' my Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I sold y'all copies That ice be onto my neck and wrist, now wanna play some hockey I'm that nigga in fact (In fact), paper tall as (Oh, boy!) Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on your Walmart rack
Got campaign goin' so brain when I'm talkin' on the phone Spendin' money when your money is street niggas, ain't no clone We at the top where we lean, rose, Patron Smokin' on a dollars worth strong When the club 'bout to hear this
We got racks on racks on (Racks) on racks on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) Got racks on racks on
Got on racks on racks (Racks) Racks on on racks (Racks) on racks on racks Nigga, I ain't even hold back