Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

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