Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

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

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

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

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

YC

fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay,
up, know I keep that tool
That on racks so ma'fuckin' fool
All around the globe, on TV
you look, you see YC
Hatin'-ass niggas wishin' they were me
YC, YC, YC
Way too big for my jeans
I'm so fly I even got wings
real low, just blame it on the green
Girl cut up, got on lean
shoebox shit, over with
She put it on the rack, notice it
My bank 'count, commas all it
on racks on racks

Young

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

Wiz

Racks on, off, see that blonde stripper, my hat's off
Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty grand that cost
Smoke like I'm in Cali, fuck flight, I blast off
talkin' tattooes, we should have a tat-off
Got racks on on racks, naps on naps on naps
Just made a mill, another mill, so put that on top of that
Way back in 2004, I told 'em it was a
Now my life ain't my life no more, I told you, nigga, 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, fuck a nigga"
I know it's some girls in the right now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I one and roll another one bigger
thinkin' they sick, well, I'm sicker
I'ma smoke my weed and I'ma my liquor
make sure you fuck your girl right 'fore I dick her

Waka Flocka

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of (Uh!), stacks on top of stacks (Uh!)
Bands on top of bands (Uh!), got me her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad don't do papers (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 crazy when she hear (Grove Street!)
She got "Grove St." on (Flocka!)
Got racks you understand (Uh-huh)
Money long from to Japan (Uh-huh)
it good when she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' when 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 thousand dollars worth
When the club 'bout to hear this

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

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

The Prynce

Got racks on on racks, y'all rap so wack on wax
Purple by the pound, that's Flacco, haaaa
I make big plays, I got big
Blue money like six
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 that a quick flip
Pull triggers hamstrings
Boy, I'm doin' my damn
Baby with them bricks, pimp
Get off a key I can't sing
Got the on me like big jersey
Ridin' round, and this bitch
I'm the best, hands
They nicknamed me
I'm wit' Dose and YC
Readell Road, my street
Ask on the Eastside
I'm the

Bun B

Bun B, I'm king
In the candy-painted car on
With the top on 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, wheel in the blunts
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, like a on clacks
Try to and I will attack
It's a fact that I ain't givin' up my stacks like

B.o.B

Call me Ray, but it's not two names
Flyin' through the city, all-black, Bruce
No, not over Baghdad
But on the track, you can me Hussein
why they 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, it's no I'm electrifying
Fuck a brainstorm, I'll fuck around and cause a outage
And it no rivals, if it was, it'd be no survivors
Just gimme a hour, light it up like 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 all on my phone, these niggas know I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won't leave me
front me a brick, that ain't nothin' to you
Just ran through a ticket, there ain't to do
Yeah, I love these streets like I the booth
Mr. Music, I'm 100 proof
Got white on on white, ice on ice on ice
And when I'm in the it look like lights on lights on lights

Got goin' so strong
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
money when your money is long
Real street niggas, no clone
We at the top we belong
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
When the club 'bout to hear this

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

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

Racks on racks on racks, I'm tryna smash and not call
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, might you a cab
Yeah, ridin' around wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. and them
When I'm in the groove, I can a tune, I'm smoother than alopecia skin
I shows out, like dope I put that flow down
Like soap when I put my clothes on, I'm jokin', but I be out
And all she is more bags, but all I want is more 1s
I told her "Bring that money back" like all them is Nordstrom's

Gunz

The tracks on snack off raps, see from back 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
Throw sacks on 'em like hoes, got racks on 'em like tight hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, keep scorin', bring it on home
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin' tan a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat like four blades
Petey Pop Off, RIP, Lou, been lootin' money since like fourth grade
I'm the nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave
Let you know Milita my gang, MCN if you was thinkin' it's a game
See me with the twin, a shimmy with the gauge
Wasn't bustin' Jimmy, I'd be busy paid
Goin' for the grips every day the grave
I be about chips, you be worried about the Lay's

Got Activist in my Sprite, 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 them jams in my
Shout out to Sha Money, signed me in a
Daddy was a kingpin, a couple buried
Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Flight stuntin'
exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can't afford 'em, than a swordsman
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC my brother

Mo

Catch me in the city with the on crack
Top dropped down, on black
of wood, twisted for the good
Check my account, got racks on racks
Look around, fool, got a wall full of
Platinum and gold, you gots to that
Posted up just like a
Better ya ho, 'cause she bound to get snatched
H-Town, to ATL
She got a fat ass, she prolly me well
Keep it on the low, never and tell
player, Cory Mo cold as hell
Shows to do, got records to
Got a whole lotta BMI in the mail
If was a crime, I'd be in jail
up for double life like "What the hell?"

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

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

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

Yeah, they call me Country Grammar, my out the slammer
I'm crimson color painted, you can call Alabama
I'm not from Alabama, but check out how I tide
He might have the whip, but check out how I roll mine
Y'all niggas ain't no stars, y'all in it for the cars
The sky is your limit, mayne, and mine somewhere 'bout
I ride wit' them in the middle of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
to the Dirty, back up through the trap
But the money don't stack, man, money
Yeah, better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one is fa sho'
Got a house on hundred acres, never seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from to Decatur
Now y'all better me alone, got license for my chrome
Don't lease or mama phone talkin' 'bout "Yo' baby gone!"
Tell the truth, I ain't gon' lie, I got so rides
Don't know which one drive, fuck it, I'm just gon' fly

Everybody wanna hate because I'm on, 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, gotta pull it, it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, I'ma close out the par', wit' some killers and everybody who we are
Get Money Gang steppin' the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon' 'em pull the flo'
Might as well get it off yo' chest, everybody got ammunition on deck
I don't see them T-Dum-Izzle as a threat, 'cause I got racks on on racks
Oh, Twista, I see future, finna shoot ya, I salute you if you could get at the general in my military
Racks and racks and tracks and stacks and gats, I destroy an entire village when I kill and bury
I manipulate your molecular structure, other words, fill 'em up wit' holes
If you try to give it to me at the door, I just I had to let you know

Big

(I bet bitch call me Big)
I got single tryin', married bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and our future in a condom
I wake up than these motherfuckers as is
Look my closet, that shit look like it's Raks Fifth
Man, that's racks on racks on racks on top of packs on top of
My is pow on pow on pow, I'm off them trees, no eye, no ow
I'm at the altar my vows to this Benjamin Franklin power
You buy her a house, I won't buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I in her mouth
They called her Dickface, she called her
(Called her connect) You call her
I call to collect, no for a pet
If I this paper, yo' bitch gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the track gon' be 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 that's all black (All black)
Racks on racks, I 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)
of the club, I bet you can't top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the fact I get (Guap)
Or the fact the money go up, it won't stop (Boy!)
I'm in the club, tryna show 'em how to (Stunt)
Tryna up what I'm throw, it prolly take about a month (Month)
The club underwater, have 'em out the front
While I'm somewhere in the back, blowed like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can 'em that I'm cool as hell (Cool as hell)
'Cause it's the case I know the pack of pumas (Pumas well)
I'm a blood motherfucker, dude'll 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 I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I like yachts (Yachts)
A couple of haters lookin', I'm them niggas hot (Hot)
And tell 'em that I don't give a
Hard as a motherfucker, 'em I was HAM
it what you want, I'ma do it for the fam
Yeah, that's the of nigga that I am

Ace

Okay, I'm back off this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and full of that liq' (Hot!)
Got racks, ain't tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no bricks (Woo!)
Hit a trick and a fiendin' got it
I keep hottie, just look at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in that of Diamonds
Sorry, just part of my hobby (Swoop!)
And I hear 'em feelin' my 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 as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on local Walmart rack

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
Spendin' money when your money is
Real street niggas, ain't no
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 on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on (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 even hold back