Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

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

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
money when 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 '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 racks on racks on (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on
Nigga, I even tryna hold back

YC

fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay,
Trapped up, know I that tool
That racks on racks so fool
All around the globe, on TV
you look, you see YC
Hatin'-ass just 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 lean on
That shoebox shit, with
She put it on the rack, notice it
My bank 'count, commas all it
Racks on on racks

Jeezy

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 night's a weekend, day's a Friday night
You ain't seen nothin' yet, bitch, just my Friday ice
'87, brick fare, yeah, I'm talkin' racks
All I sold is hundos, where the fuck my at?

Wiz

Racks on, racks off, see that blonde stripper, my off
Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty grand that 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 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 told you, nigga, it's a
Oooh, you you a dog, my nigga, I'm the vet
We can't even talk 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 it's some girls in the crowd right now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I one and roll another one bigger
Niggas thinkin' they sick, well, I'm
I'ma smoke my weed and drink my liquor
Better sure you fuck your girl right 'fore I dick her

Waka Flame

(Flocka!)
I got on top of racks (Uh!), stacks on top of stacks (Uh!)
Bands on top of (Uh!), got me fuckin' her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad boys do papers (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 she hear music (Grove Street!)
She got "Grove St." on (Flocka!)
Got racks you understand (Uh-huh)
Money from here to Japan (Uh-huh)
it good when she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a

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

We got racks on racks on (Racks)
Racks on on racks (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 tryna hold

Cyhi The

Got racks on racks on racks, y'all rap so on wax
Purple by the pound, that's that Flacco,
I big plays, I got big chips
money like six Crips
Switch gears like stick
Fresh as hell, no Big
We buy cars, y'all whips
Catch us smokin' that quick
piff, that's a handspring
I like to call that a quick
Pull like hamstrings
Boy, I'm my damn thing
Baby blood with bricks, pimp
Get off a key I can't sing
Got the seven on me like big
Ridin' round, and this dirty
I'm the best, down
They me 6:30
I'm Young Dose 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 wheel on the back just
Hit corners, hit licks, hit
With the in the front, wood wheel 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 and I will attack
It's a fact that I ain't up my stacks like that

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but not two names
Flyin' through the city, all-black, Bruce
No, not over Baghdad
But on the track, you can me Hussein
That's why they nervous, hmmm, I'm flyin' on the plane with a turban
But I'm fly, y'all turbulence, exit row, emergency (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, it's no I'm electrifying
Fuck a brainstorm, I'll fuck and cause a power outage
And it no rivals, if it was, it'd be no survivors
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 I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won't me 'lone
front me a brick, that ain't nothin' to you
Just ran through a ticket, there nothin' to do
Yeah, I love these streets I love the booth
Mr. Cocaine Music, I'm 100
Got on white on white, ice on ice on ice
And when I'm in the club it look like 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, no clone
We at the top where we
lean, rose, Patron
Smokin' on a thousand dollars worth
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 on racks

Got racks on racks on (Racks)
Racks on racks on (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 Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, might call you a cab
Yeah, ridin' wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. Reece and them
When I'm in the groove, I can a tune, I'm smoother than alopecia skin
I shows out, like dope when I put that 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 racks is

Gunz

The on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks
From the X to the in the Ac, if I ain't strapped, then the gats on scat
Then he black on 'em like Tae Bo, he clap on 'em like bravo
Throw sacks on 'em 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 shit nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a
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 gettin'
Goin' for the grips every day the grave
I be worried about chips, you be 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' slow brain in a Maserati
I'm kickin', pimpin', like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin' like
Puffin' on that garlic, off all the Marley
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them in my pocket
Shout out to Sha Money, me in a hurry
Daddy was a kingpin, a milli buried
Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Flight 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 with the trunk on crack
Top dropped down, black on
Fistful of wood, for the good
Check my bank account, got racks on
Look around, fool, got a wall full of
Platinum and gold, you gots to that
Posted up just a thumbtack
Better hide ya ho, 'cause she bound to get
H-Town, to ATL
She got a fat ass, she know me well
Keep it on the low, kiss and tell
True player, Cory Mo as hell
to do, got records to sell
Got a whole lotta BMI checks in the
If was a crime, I'd be in jail
Locked up for double life "What the hell?"

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' brain when I'm on the phone
Spendin' money when money 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 club 'bout to hear song

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

Yeah, they call me Grammar, my brother out the slammer
I'm color painted, you can call 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 niggas ain't no stars, y'all 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 the trap
But the don't stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, y'all better 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 in ATL and from Buckhead 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 lie, I got so many rides
Don't know which one I'ma drive, fuck it, I'm just fly

Everybody wanna hate because I'm on, head back, bottles by the zone
Twista finna get up on the track and spit it the way I do because I like this 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', wit' killers and everybody know who we are
Get Money steppin' through the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon' make 'em pull the
Might as well get it off yo' chest, while got ammunition on deck
I don't see them T-Dum-Izzle as a threat, I got racks on racks 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 and tracks and stacks and gats, I could destroy an entire village when I kill and bury
'Cause I manipulate 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 your bitch me Big)
I got single tryin', married bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and our future in a condom
I up fresher than these motherfuckers as is
inside my closet, that shit 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 sayin' my vows 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
called her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You her collect
I call to collect, no for a pet
If I throw this paper, yo' bitch fetch
(Do it!)
And the track gon' be aight as 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 know how to act (Act)
Track and field the birds, I'm runnin' 'em like track (Track)
throws of money, bet you can't blind (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you top (Top)
niggas hate the fact I get guap (Guap)
Or the when the money go up, it won't stop (Boy!)
I'm in the club, tryna 'em how to stunt (Stunt)
Tryna pick up what I'm throw, it prolly about a month (Month)
The club underwater, 'em runnin' out the front
While I'm somewhere in the back, blowed like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can tell 'em that I'm cool as (Cool as hell)
it's the case I know the pack of pumas well (Pumas well)
I'm a blood motherfucker, that dude'll (Dude'll tell)
Got 47 'neath the old-school as (School as well)
I got lights on my wrist that'll flash cop (Cops)
Couple of 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 'em that I don't give a damn
as a motherfucker, tell '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 off into 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 trick and a nigga got it
I keep hottie, just look at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty in that King 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 and wrist, now anybody 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 goin' so
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
Spendin' money when money is long
Real street niggas, no clone
We at the top where we
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 on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on (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 hold back