Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

YC!
(What you got?) on racks on racks
(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) on racks on racks

Got campaign goin' so
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 dollars worth strong
When the club 'bout to hear this

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

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

YC

fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay,
Trapped up, know I that tool
That on racks so ma'fuckin' fool
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 got wings
Eyes low, just blame it on the green
Girl cut up, got lean on
shoebox shit, over with
She put it on the rack, won't it
My bank 'count, all over it
Racks on on racks

Jeezy

Young, if it's convertible, then how is it a
Bitch, I hit one button, my roof open 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 a Friday night
You seen nothin' yet, bitch, this just my Friday ice
'87, brick fare, yeah, I'm 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 grand 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 made a mill, count mill, so put that on top of that
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 one and roll another one bigger
Niggas they sick, well, I'm sicker
I'ma smoke my and I'ma drink my liquor
Better make sure you fuck girl right 'fore I dick her

Waka Flame

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!), stacks on top of (Uh!)
Bands on top of bands (Uh!), got me 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!) two times if you druuuunk
Got a bad from the U.K. (Okay!)
She do I say (Okay!)
Go crazy when she hear (Grove Street!)
She got "Grove St." on (Flocka!)
Got you don't understand (Uh-huh)
Money long here to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it good she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a

Got campaign goin' so
brain when I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money when your is long
Real street niggas, no clone
We at the top we belong
Drink lean, rose,
on a thousand dollars worth strong
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 racks on racks on

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

Cyhi The

Got racks on racks on racks, rap so wack on wax
Purple by the pound, that's that Flacco,
I big plays, I got big chips
money like six Crips
Switch gears like shifts
Fresh as hell, no Big
We buy cars, flip whips
us smokin' that quick trip
Pitch piff, that's a
I to call that a quick flip
Pull triggers like
Boy, I'm doin' my damn
Baby blood with bricks, pimp
Get off a key like I sing
Got the seven on me like big
Ridin' round, and bitch dirty
I'm the best, hands
They me 6:30
I'm wit' Young and YC
Readell Road, that's my
Ask around on the
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 thang
Fifth wheel on the back hang
Hit corners, hit licks, hit
the grill in the front, wood wheel in the blunts
You're on neon lights in my
Yeah, I rep that
One hundred, yeah, me
If you don't recognize, you see
I'm a straight-up OG
In a
Cadillac, like a Mack on
Try to and I will attack
It's a fact that I ain't givin' up my stacks that

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but it's not two
Flyin' the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not over Baghdad
But on the track, you can me Hussein
That's why they nervous, hmmm, like I'm flyin' on the with a turban
But I'm fly, just turbulence, exit row, emergency (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, it's no wonder I'm
Fuck a brainstorm, I'll fuck around and cause a power
And it ain't no rivals, if it was, 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, these niggas know I'm
Said 50 for a song, and they won't me 'lone
Gotta front me a brick, that ain't to you
Just ran through a ticket, there ain't to do
Yeah, I love these streets I love 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
brain when I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money when your money is
street niggas, ain't no clone
We at the top we belong
Drink lean, rose,
on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club 'bout to hear this

We got on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks (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 and not call back
My Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, might call you a cab
Yeah, ridin' around wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around Ms. Reece and them
I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune, I'm smoother than alopecia skin
I shows out, like dope when I put flow 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 is more 1s
I told her "Bring that money back" like all racks is Nordstrom's

Cory

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks 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 clap on 'em like
sacks on 'em like y'all hoes, got racks on 'em like tight hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, keep scorin', I'ma it on home
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 like fourth grade
I'm the nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave
Let you niggas know Milita my gang, MCN if you was it's a game
See me with the twin, a shimmy with the gauge
Wasn't bustin' Jimmy, I'd be gettin' paid
Goin' for the grips every day the grave
I be worried about chips, you be worried 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 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
Shout out to Sha Money, signed me in a
was a kingpin, a couple 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, than a swordsman
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC my brother

Mo

Catch me in the city with the on crack
Top down, black on black
Fistful of wood, for the good
Check my bank account, got on racks
around, fool, got a wall full of plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots to love
Posted up just like a
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, never and tell
True player, Cory Mo as hell
Shows to do, got 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 goin' so
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
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 strong
When the club 'bout to this song

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

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

Yeah, they me Country 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 check out how I mine
Y'all niggas ain't no stars, only in it for the cars
The sky is limit, mayne, and mine somewhere 'bout Mars
I ride wit' boys in the middle of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
Down to the Dirty, up through the trap
But the money don't stack, man, money
Yeah, y'all watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one is fa sho'
Got a house on acres, I've never seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from to Decatur
Now better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Don't lease or your phone talkin' 'bout "Yo' baby gone!"
Tell the truth, I ain't lie, I got so many rides
Don't know which one 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 spit it the way I do simp-a-ly because I like song
I step up out the Maserati car, gotta pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, I'ma close out the par', some killers and everybody know who we are
Get Money Gang through 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 get it off yo' chest, while everybody got ammunition on deck
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 general in my
Racks and 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 I had to let you know

Big

(I bet your bitch me Big)
I got bitches tryin', married bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and leave our future in a
I wake up than these motherfuckers as is
Look inside my closet, that shit look like Raks Fifth
Man, that's racks on 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 sayin' my to this Benjamin Franklin power
You buy her a house, I won't buy her a vowel, you 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 this paper, yo' bitch gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the gon' 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 field with the birds, I'm runnin' 'em track (Track)
Free throws of money, bet you can't (Blind)
of the club, I bet you can't top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the fact I get (Guap)
Or the fact when the go up, it won't stop (Boy!)
I'm in the club, tryna 'em how to stunt (Stunt)
pick up what I'm throw, it prolly take about a month (Month)
The club underwater, have 'em runnin' out the
While I'm in the back, gettin' blowed like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can tell 'em that I'm cool as (Cool as hell)
'Cause it's the case I know the pack of well (Pumas well)
I'm a blood motherfucker, that dude'll (Dude'll tell)
Got 47 the old-school as well (School as well)
I got lights on my wrist that'll like cop (Cops)
of foreign cars that I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I ride like (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
Call it you want, I'ma do it for the fam
Yeah, that's the type of nigga I am

Ace

Okay, I'm back off this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and it's full of liq' (Hot!)
Got racks, talkin' tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no Lego (Woo!)
Hit a and a fiendin' nigga got it
I that hottie, just look at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in that of Diamonds
Sorry, that's just part of my (Swoop!)
And I hear 'em feelin' my 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 Walmart

Got campaign goin' so
Gettin' when 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 worth 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 racks on
Nigga, I ain't even tryna hold