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 racks on
(Leggo)
(Hey) We got on racks on racks
(She got) on racks on racks
(They got) on racks on racks

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

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

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

YC

fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay,
up, know I keep that tool
That racks on racks so ma'fuckin'
All the globe, bein' 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 blame it on the
Girl cut up, got lean on
shoebox shit, over with
She put it on the rack, won't it
My bank 'count, commas all it
on racks on racks

Young

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

Wiz

Racks on, racks off, see blonde stripper, my hat's off
Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty what that cost
like 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 on naps
Just a mill, count another mill, so put that on top of that
Way in 2004, I told '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 why all of these niggas get bent
They "Fuck a young nigga, fuck a young nigga"
I it's some girls in the crowd right now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I one and roll another one bigger
Niggas they sick, well, I'm sicker
smoke my weed and I'ma drink my liquor
Better make you fuck your girl right 'fore I dick her

Waka Flame

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of (Uh!), stacks on top of stacks (Uh!)
Bands on top of bands (Uh!), got me fuckin' her (Uh!) and her (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 times if you
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 don't (Uh-huh)
Money long from to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it good when she go no
Girl, you got me in a

Got campaign goin' so
brain 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
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a thousand dollars worth
When the club 'bout to this song

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

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

The Prynce

Got racks on on racks, y'all rap so wack on wax
Purple by the pound, that's that Flacco,
I make big plays, I got big
money like six Crips
Switch like stick shifts
as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, y'all whips
Catch us smokin' that quick
piff, that's a handspring
I like to call a quick flip
Pull triggers like
Boy, I'm my damn thing
Baby with them bricks, pimp
Get off a key I can't sing
Got the on me like big jersey
Ridin' round, and bitch dirty
I'm the best, hands
nicknamed me 6:30
I'm wit' Dose and YC
Readell Road, my street
Ask on the Eastside
I'm the

Bun B

Bun B, I'm underground
In the car on swang
With the top on drop and the on pop
Boy, you can't tell me a damn
Fifth wheel on the just hang
Hit corners, hit licks, hit
With the grill in the front, wood in the blunts
You're on neon in my bank
Yeah, I rep P-A-T
One hundred, yeah, me
If you don't recognize, you see
I'm a straight-up OG
In a
Cadillac, a Mack on clacks
Try to jack and I will
It's a fact I ain't givin' up my stacks like that

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but it's not two
through the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not over Baghdad
But on the track, you can call me
That's why they nervous, hmmm, I'm flyin' on the plane with a turban
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, fuck around and cause a power outage
And it no rivals, if it was, it'd be no survivors
Just a hour, I'll light it up like an Eiffel Tower

Yo

Got bills on top of bills, on top of scales
I'm Mr. All White, got on top of yell'
Got pills all on my phone, niggas know I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won't leave me
Gotta front me a brick, ain't nothin' to you
Just ran a ticket, there ain't nothin' to do
Yeah, I love these streets I love the booth
Mr. Music, I'm 100 proof
Got on white on white, ice on ice on ice
And when I'm in the club it look like lights on lights on

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
Spendin' when your money is long
Real street niggas, 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 racks on on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Got on racks on racks

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

Racks on racks on racks, I'm tryna smash and not call
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, call you a cab
Yeah, ridin' around wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. and them
When I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune, I'm smoother 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 them racks is

Cory

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my
the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain't 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 like hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, keep scorin', I'ma bring it on
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin' tan a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like four
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin' money since like fourth
I'm the shit nowadays, so wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave
Let you niggas Milita my gang, MCN if you was thinkin' it's a game
See me with the twin, buck a shimmy the gauge
bustin' Jimmy, I'd be busy gettin' paid
Goin' for the grips day 'til the grave
I be worried chips, you be worried about the Lay's

Got Activist in my Sprite, Benjamins in my
Frank wit' flooded ice, but I still got my brightness
In the fast lane, gettin' brain in a 2012 Maserati
I'm kickin', pimpin', like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin' Friday
Puffin' on that garlic, off all the Marley
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 milli buried
Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Flight Corps
These exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the
No, you can't afford 'em, sharper than a
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC like my

Mo

Catch me in the city with the trunk on
Top dropped down, black on
of wood, twisted for the good
Check my account, got racks on racks
Look around, fool, got a full 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 know me
Keep it on the low, never kiss and
True player, Cory Mo cold as
to do, got records to sell
Got a whole BMI checks in the mail
If was a crime, I'd be in jail
up for double life like "What the hell?"

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

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

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

Yeah, they call me Grammar, my brother out the slammer
I'm crimson color painted, you can that 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 no stars, y'all only in it for the cars
The sky is limit, mayne, and mine somewhere 'bout Mars
I ride wit' them 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, overlap
Yeah, y'all watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
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!"
Tell the truth, I ain't gon' lie, I got so many
know which one I'ma drive, fuck it, I'm just gon' fly

Everybody wanna hate because I'm on, blowin' back, bottles by the zone
finna 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 car, gotta 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 Gang steppin' through the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get it, come on and do it, for security, we gon' make 'em pull the flo'
Might as well get it off yo' chest, while 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 your future, shoot ya, I salute you if you could get at the general in my military
and racks and tracks and stacks and gats, I could destroy an entire village when I kill and bury
'Cause I manipulate your structure, other words, fill '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 your call me Big)
I got single tryin', married bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and leave our future in a
I wake up fresher than these as is
Look inside my closet, that look like it's Raks Fifth
Man, racks on racks on racks 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 my vows to this Benjamin Franklin 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 her collect
I to collect, no need for a pet
If I throw paper, yo' bitch gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the track gon' be 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 of a Chevy that's all black (All black)
on racks, I don't know how to act (Act)
Track and with the birds, I'm runnin' 'em like track (Track)
Free throws of money, bet you blind (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the I get guap (Guap)
Or the when the money 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 take a month (Month)
The club underwater, have 'em out the front
While I'm somewhere in the back, gettin' like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can tell 'em I'm cool as hell (Cool as hell)
it's the case I know the pack of pumas well (Pumas well)
I'm a blood motherfucker, dude'll tell (Dude'll tell)
Got 47 'neath the old-school as (School as well)
I got lights on my wrist that'll like cop (Cops)
Couple of foreign cars I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I ride yachts (Yachts)
A of haters lookin', I'm knowin' them niggas hot (Hot)
And tell 'em that I don't 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 of nigga that I am

Ace

Okay, I'm back off this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and it's of that liq' (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 at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in that King of
Sorry, that's just of my hobby (Swoop!)
And I hear 'em feelin' my Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I sold copies
That ice be onto my and wrist, now anybody 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
Gettin' brain when I'm on the phone
Spendin' money when your is long
Real street niggas, no clone
We at the top where we
lean, rose, Patron
Smokin' on a dollars worth strong
the club 'bout to hear this song

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

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