Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

YC!
(What you got?) Racks on on racks
(He got) Racks on racks on
(We got) Racks on on racks
(Leggo)
(Hey) We got racks on on racks
(She got) Racks on racks on
(They got) on racks on racks

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' 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
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a dollars worth strong
When the club 'bout to hear song

We got racks on racks on (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks (Racks)
Got on racks on racks

Got racks on racks on (Racks)
Racks on racks on (Racks)
Racks on racks on
Nigga, I even tryna hold back

YC

Still fresh, yeah, and in my
Iced out, okay,
Trapped up, know I that tool
That on racks so ma'fuckin' fool
All around the globe, on TV
you look, you see YC
Hatin'-ass niggas just wishin' were me
YC, YC, YC
Way too big for my ma'fuckin'
I'm so fly I don't even got
Eyes real low, just it on the green
Girl cut up, got lean on
That shoebox shit, over
She put it on the rack, won't it
My bank 'count, commas all it
Racks on racks on

Jeezy

Young, if convertible, then how is it a hardtop?
Bitch, I hit one button, my open like a hard spot
Make me throw my up, bitch, my life was hard knock
Had so kush and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart stop
Every night's a weekend, every day's a Friday
You ain't nothin' yet, bitch, this just my Friday ice
'87, brick fare, yeah, I'm thirty racks
All I sold is hundos, the fuck my twenties at?

Wiz

Racks on, racks off, see that stripper, my hat's off
Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty what that cost
Smoke I'm in Cali, fuck takin' flight, I blast off
talkin' tattooes, we should have a tat-off
Got racks on racks on racks, naps on on naps
Just made a mill, count another mill, so put on top of that
Way in 2004, I told 'em it was a wrap
Now my life ain't my no more, I told 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 young nigga, a young nigga"
I know it's some girls in the crowd right now who wanna fuck a 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
Better make sure you fuck your girl right I dick her

Waka Flocka

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!), stacks on top of (Uh!)
Bands on top of (Uh!), got me fuckin' her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad boys don't do (Flex!), that was just for (Flex!) my haters (Clap!)
(Clap, clap, go, go, go, go, go, Flocka!) Clap two if you druuuunk
Got a bad bitch the U.K. (Okay!)
She do I say (Okay!)
Go when she hear music (Grove Street!)
She got "Grove St." on (Flocka!)
Got racks you understand (Uh-huh)
long from here to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it good when she go no
Girl, you got me in a

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' when I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money your money is long
street niggas, ain't no clone
We at the top where we
lean, rose, Patron
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
When the club to hear 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 on racks (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks
Nigga, I even tryna hold back

The Prynce

Got racks on on racks, y'all rap so wack on wax
by the pound, that's that Flacco, haaaa
I make big plays, I got big
Blue like six Crips
Switch gears stick shifts
as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, flip whips
Catch us smokin' that trip
Pitch piff, that's a
I like to call a quick flip
Pull triggers like
Boy, I'm doin' my thing
Baby blood with them bricks,
Get off a key like I sing
Got the seven on me big jersey
Ridin' round, and this dirty
I'm the best, hands
They me 6:30
I'm wit' Young and YC
Readell Road, 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 tell me a damn
Fifth wheel on the back hang
Hit corners, hit licks, hit
With the grill in the front, wood wheel in the
on neon lights in my bank
Yeah, I rep P-A-T
One hundred, yeah, me
If you recognize, you gon' see
I'm a straight-up OG
In a
Cadillac, a Mack on clacks
Try to jack and I attack
It's a fact that I ain't up my stacks like that

B.o.B

me Bobby Ray, but it's not two names
Flyin' the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not over Baghdad
But on the track, you can call me
That's why nervous, hmmm, like I'm flyin' on the plane with a turban
But I'm fly, y'all just turbulence, row, emergency (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, no wonder I'm electrifying
a brainstorm, I'll fuck 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 light it up an Eiffel Tower

Yo

Got on top of bills, scales on top of scales
I'm Mr. All White, got yell' on top of
Got pills all on my phone, these know I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won't me 'lone
front 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 when I'm in the club it like lights on lights on lights

Got goin' so strong
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money your money is long
street niggas, ain't no clone
We at the top where we
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a thousand dollars worth
the club 'bout to hear this song

We got on racks on racks (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)
Racks on on racks
Nigga, I ain't tryna hold back

Racks on on racks, I'm tryna smash and not call back
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, call you a cab
Yeah, ridin' around that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. Reece and them
When I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune, I'm smoother than skin
I shows out, like when I put that flow down
Like soap 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 back" like all them racks is Nordstrom's

Gunz

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from of my slacks
From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain't strapped, then the on scat
Then he black on 'em like Tae Bo, then he clap on 'em like
sacks on 'em like y'all hoes, got racks on 'em like tight hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, scorin', I'ma bring it on home
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin' tan with a mean
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like four
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin' money since like grade
I'm the shit nowadays, so wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave
Let you niggas know Milita my gang, MCN if you was thinkin' a game
See me with the twin, a shimmy with the gauge
Wasn't bustin' Jimmy, I'd be busy gettin'
Goin' for the grips every day 'til the
I be worried about chips, you be about the Lay's

Got in my Sprite, Benjamins in my Robins
Frank Muller wit' flooded ice, but I got my brightness
In the lane, gettin' slow brain in a 2012 Maserati
I'm kickin', pimpin', Liu Kang, my coupe smokin' like Friday
on that garlic, sick off all the Marley
Inked up on my hands and arms, got jams in my pocket
Shout out to Sha Money, me in a hurry
Daddy was a kingpin, a milli buried
Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Flight stuntin'
These 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can't afford 'em, sharper than a
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC like my

Mo

Catch me in the with the trunk on crack
Top dropped down, black on
of wood, twisted for the good
Check my account, got racks on racks
Look around, fool, got a wall of plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots to love
Posted up like a thumbtack
Better hide ya ho, 'cause she bound to get
H-Town, to ATL
She got a fat ass, she prolly me well
Keep it on the low, kiss and tell
True player, Cory Mo as hell
to do, got records to sell
Got a lotta BMI checks in the mail
If ballin' was a crime, I'd be in
Locked up for double life "What the hell?"

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' when I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money your money is long
Real street niggas, no clone
We at the top where we
lean, rose, Patron
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
When the club to hear this song

We got on racks on racks (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on (Racks)
Got on racks on racks

Got racks on on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks
Nigga, I ain't even hold back

Yeah, they call me Grammar, my brother out the slammer
I'm crimson color painted, you can call that
I'm not from Alabama, but out how I roll tide
He might have the same whip, but out how I roll mine
Y'all ain't no stars, y'all only in it for the cars
The sky is your limit, mayne, and mine 'bout Mars
I ride wit' boys in the middle of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
to the Dirty, back up through the trap
But the don't stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, y'all better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and
Two is for certain, mayne, and one thing is fa sho'
Got a house on hundred acres, I've seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from Buckhead to
Now y'all better me alone, got license for my chrome
Don't lease or mama phone talkin' 'bout "Yo' baby gone!"
the truth, I ain't gon' lie, I got so many rides
Don't know one I'ma drive, fuck it, I'm just gon' fly

Everybody hate because I'm on, blowin' head back, bottles by the zone
Twista finna get up on the track and it the way I do simp-a-ly because I like this song
When I step up out the Maserati car, gotta it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, I'ma close out the par', wit' some killers and know who we are
Get Gang steppin' through the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago
wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon' make 'em pull the flo'
Might as get it off yo' chest, while everybody got ammunition on deck
I don't see them as a threat, 'cause I got racks on racks on racks
Oh, Twista, I see your future, finna shoot ya, I you if you could get at the general in my military
Racks and racks and tracks and stacks and gats, I could destroy an entire village I kill and bury
'Cause I manipulate your molecular structure, other words, fill 'em up wit'
If you try to give it to me at the door, I thought I had to let you know

Big

(I bet your call me Big)
I got single bitches tryin', married lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and leave our in a condom
I wake up than these motherfuckers as is
Look inside my closet, that look like it's Raks Fifth
Man, that's racks on racks on on top of packs 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 Franklin
You buy her a house, I buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I fell in her mouth
They her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You call her
I to collect, no need for a pet
If I throw paper, yo' bitch gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the track be aight as long as we got me
(I do it)

I'm the if you wondered where I'm at (Where I'm at)
In the back of a Chevy all black (All black)
on racks, I don't know how to act (Act)
Track and field the birds, I'm runnin' 'em like track (Track)
Free of money, bet you can't blind (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you top (Top)
niggas hate the fact I get guap (Guap)
Or the fact when the go up, it won't stop (Boy!)
I'm in the club, show 'em how to stunt (Stunt)
Tryna pick up what I'm throw, it prolly about a month (Month)
The underwater, have 'em runnin' out the front
While I'm somewhere in the back, gettin' blowed a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can 'em that I'm cool as hell (Cool as hell)
'Cause the case 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 that'll flash like cop (Cops)
Couple of cars that I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I ride like (Yachts)
A couple of haters lookin', I'm knowin' them hot (Hot)
And 'em that I don't give a damn
Hard as a motherfucker, 'em I was HAM
it what you want, I'ma do it for the fam
Yeah, that's the type of nigga I am

Ace

Okay, I'm back off into bitch (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and it's full of liq' (Hot!)
Got racks, ain't talkin' (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no Lego (Woo!)
Hit a trick and a fiendin' got it
I keep that hottie, look at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in that King of
Sorry, that's just part of my (Swoop!)
And I hear 'em my Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I sold y'all copies
That ice be onto my and wrist, now anybody wanna play some hockey
I'm that nigga in fact (In fact), tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on your local rack

Got goin' so strong
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money when your is long
street niggas, ain't no clone
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)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on (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 tryna hold back