Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

YC!
(What you got?) Racks on 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 racks on
(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 niggas, ain't 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)
Racks on racks on (Racks)
Racks on racks on (Racks)
Got on racks on racks

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

YC

Still fresh, yeah, and in my
out, okay, cool
Trapped up, know I keep that
That on racks so ma'fuckin' fool
All around the globe, 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
Eyes low, just blame it on the green
Girl cut up, got on lean
That shit, over with
She put it on the rack, won't it
My bank 'count, commas all it
Racks on racks on

Young

Young, if it's convertible, how is it a hardtop?
Bitch, I hit one button, my roof open a hard spot
Make me throw my up, bitch, my life was hard knock
Had so much and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart stop
night's a weekend, every day's a Friday night
You seen nothin' yet, bitch, this just my Friday ice
'87, fare, yeah, I'm talkin' thirty racks
All I is hundos, where the fuck my twenties at?

Wiz

Racks on, racks off, see that blonde stripper, my off
Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty what that cost
Smoke like I'm in Cali, fuck flight, I blast off
Niggas talkin' tattooes, we have a tat-off
Got racks on on racks, naps on naps 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 'less you got the check, I guess that's why all of these niggas get bent
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
thinkin' they sick, well, I'm sicker
I'ma smoke my weed and I'ma drink my
Better make you fuck your girl right 'fore I dick her

Waka Flocka

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!), on top of stacks (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 when she hear music (Grove Street!)
She got "Grove St." on (Flocka!)
Got you don't understand (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
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain't no
We at the top we belong
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a dollars worth strong
When the club 'bout to hear song

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

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

The Prynce

Got racks on racks on racks, rap so wack on wax
by the pound, that's that Flacco, haaaa
I big plays, I got big chips
Blue like six Crips
gears like stick shifts
Fresh as hell, no Big
We buy cars, y'all whips
us smokin' that quick trip
Pitch piff, that's a
I to call that a quick flip
Pull like hamstrings
Boy, I'm my damn thing
Baby blood with them bricks,
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
They me 6:30
I'm wit' Dose and YC
Road, that's my street
Ask around on the
I'm the

Bun B

Bun B, I'm underground
In the candy-painted car on
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 in the blunts
on neon lights in my bank
Yeah, I rep that
One hundred, yeah, me
If you recognize, you gon' see
I'm a straight-up OG
In a
Cadillac, like a Mack on
Try to jack and I will
It's a fact that I ain't givin' up my like that

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but it's not two
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 with a turban
But I'm fly, y'all just turbulence, exit row, (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, it's no 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, scales on top of
I'm Mr. All White, got on top of yell'
Got pills all on my phone, these know I'm wrong
50 for a song, and they won't leave 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 these streets like I the booth
Mr. Cocaine Music, I'm 100
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 campaign goin' so
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' when your money is long
Real niggas, ain't no clone
We at the top we belong
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
the club '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 racks on (Racks)
on racks on racks
Nigga, I even tryna hold back

Racks on racks on racks, I'm tryna smash and not back
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, might you a cab
Yeah, around wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. Reece and them
I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune, I'm smoother than alopecia skin
I out, like dope when I put that flow down
soap 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 tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my
From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain't strapped, then the on scat
Then he black on 'em Tae Bo, then he clap on 'em like bravo
sacks on 'em like y'all hoes, got racks on 'em like tight hoes
Young Money, Money so strong, keep scorin', I'ma bring it on home
Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin' tan with a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like four
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, lootin' money since like fourth grade
I'm the shit nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a
Let you niggas know my gang, MCN if you was thinkin' it's a game
See me with the twin, buck a shimmy the gauge
Wasn't Jimmy, I'd be busy gettin' paid
Goin' for the grips every day 'til the
I be worried about chips, you be worried about the

Got Activist in my Sprite, Benjamins in my
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 like Friday
Puffin' on that garlic, off all the Marley
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my
out to Sha Money, signed me in a hurry
Daddy was a kingpin, a couple buried
Nigga, you ain't nothin', all in Flight Corps stuntin'
These 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can't afford 'em, sharper than a
Racks on racks, our strong, and YC like my brother

Mo

Catch me in the city with the trunk on
Top dropped down, on black
Fistful of wood, twisted for the
Check my bank account, got on racks
around, fool, got a wall full of plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots to love
up just like a thumbtack
Better hide ya ho, she bound to get snatched
H-Town, to ATL
She got a fat ass, she prolly me well
Keep it on the low, kiss and tell
player, Cory Mo cold 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
up for double life like "What the hell?"

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

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

Yeah, they me Country Grammar, my brother out the slammer
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
niggas ain't no stars, y'all only in it for the cars
The sky is your limit, mayne, and somewhere 'bout Mars
I ride wit' them boys in the of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
Down to the Dirty, back up the trap
But the money stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, y'all better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one thing is fa
Got a house on hundred acres, I've seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from 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 ain't gon' lie, I got so many
Don't know which one I'ma drive, fuck it, I'm gon' fly

Everybody wanna hate because I'm on, blowin' head back, bottles by the
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 it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, I'ma close out the par', wit' killers and everybody 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 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 your future, finna ya, I salute you if you could get at the general 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 thought I had to let you know

Big

(I bet your call me Big)
I got bitches tryin', married bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and leave our in a condom
I wake up fresher 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 chains is pow on pow on pow, I'm off trees, no eye, no ow
I'm at the altar sayin' my vows to Benjamin Franklin power
You buy her a house, I won't buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I fell in her
They called her Dickface, she called her
(Called her connect) You call her
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 where 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 throws of money, bet you can't (Blind)
of the club, I bet you can't top (Top)
Bitch hate the fact I get guap (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 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, blowed like 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 motherfucker, that dude'll tell (Dude'll tell)
Got 47 'neath the as well (School as well)
I got lights on my wrist that'll like cop (Cops)
Couple of cars that I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I like yachts (Yachts)
A couple of haters lookin', I'm knowin' niggas hot (Hot)
And tell 'em that I don't give a
Hard as a motherfucker, 'em I was HAM
Call it you want, I'ma do it for the fam
Yeah, the type of nigga that I am

Ace

Okay, I'm back off into this (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and it's full of that (Hot!)
Got racks, ain't tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no bricks (Woo!)
Hit a trick and a fiendin' got it
I keep that hottie, just at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in King of Diamonds
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 anybody wanna play some
I'm that in fact (In fact), paper tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on your local Walmart

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

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