Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

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

Got campaign 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 thousand dollars worth
the club 'bout to hear this song

We got racks on racks on (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 even tryna hold back

YC

Still fresh, yeah, and in my
Iced out, okay,
Trapped up, I keep that tool
racks on racks so ma'fuckin' fool
All the globe, bein' 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 don't even got
Eyes real low, just blame it on the
Girl cut up, got lean on
That shoebox shit, with
She put it on the rack, notice 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 diamonds up, bitch, my life was knock
Had so much and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart stop
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 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 grand what that cost
Smoke I'm in Cali, fuck takin' flight, I blast off
talkin' tattooes, we should have a tat-off
Got on racks on racks, naps on naps on naps
Just a mill, count another mill, so put that on top of that
Way back in 2004, I told 'em it was a
Now my life ain't my no more, I told 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
said "Fuck a young 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 they sick, well, I'm sicker
I'ma smoke my weed and I'ma my liquor
Better make sure you your girl right 'fore I dick her

Waka Flame

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!), on top of stacks (Uh!)
on top of bands (Uh!), got me fuckin' her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad boys don't do papers (Flex!), that was for (Flex!) my haters (Clap!)
(Clap, clap, go, go, go, go, go, Flocka!) Clap two 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 when she go no
Girl, you got me in a

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

We got racks on racks on (Racks)
Racks on 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 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 make big plays, I got big
Blue money like six
Switch like stick shifts
as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, y'all whips
us smokin' that quick trip
Pitch piff, a handspring
I to call that a quick flip
triggers like hamstrings
Boy, I'm doin' my damn
Baby blood them bricks, pimp
Get off a key I can't sing
Got the on me like big jersey
Ridin' round, and this dirty
I'm the best, down
They nicknamed me
I'm Young Dose and YC
Readell Road, my street
Ask around on the
I'm the

Bun B

Bun B, I'm underground
In the car on swang
With the top on and the trunk 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 lights in my bank
Yeah, I rep that
One hundred, yeah, me
If you don't recognize, you see
I'm a trill OG
In a
Cadillac, like a on clacks
Try to jack and I will
It's a fact that I ain't up my stacks like that

B.o.B

Call me Ray, but it's not two names
Flyin' through the city, all-black, Bruce
No, not bombs over
But on the track, you can call me
why they nervous, hmmm, like I'm flyin' on the plane with a turban
But I'm fly, y'all just turbulence, row, emergency (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, it's no I'm electrifying
Fuck a brainstorm, I'll fuck around and cause a outage
And it no rivals, if it was, it'd be no survivors
gimme 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 yell' on top of
Got all on my phone, these niggas know I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and won't leave me 'lone
front me a brick, that ain't nothin' to you
Just ran through a ticket, there ain't to do
Yeah, I these streets like 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 goin' so strong
brain when I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money when 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 this

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

Racks on racks on racks, I'm tryna smash and not back
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 flow
soap when I put my clothes on, I'm jokin', but I be Foamed out
And all she want is bags, but all I want is more 1s
I told her "Bring that money back" like all racks is Nordstrom's

Gunz

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks back of my slacks
From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain't strapped, then the on scat
Then he black on 'em like Tae Bo, he clap on 'em like bravo
sacks on 'em like y'all hoes, got racks on 'em like tight hoes
Young Money, Cash so strong, keep scorin', I'ma bring it on home
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin' tan with a mean
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat like four blades
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin' money since like grade
I'm the shit nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a
Let you niggas know Milita my gang, MCN if you was thinkin' it's a
See me with the twin, buck a with the gauge
Wasn't Jimmy, I'd be busy gettin' paid
Goin' for the grips day 'til the grave
I be worried about chips, you be worried the Lay's

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

Mo

Catch me in the city with the on crack
Top dropped down, on black
of wood, twisted for the good
Check my bank account, got on racks
around, fool, got a wall full of plaques
Platinum and gold, you to love that
up just like a thumbtack
Better hide ya ho, 'cause she to get snatched
H-Town, to ATL
She got a fat ass, she know me well
Keep it on the low, never and tell
True player, Mo cold as hell
Shows to do, got records to
Got a whole lotta BMI in the mail
If was a crime, I'd be in jail
up for double life like "What the hell?"

Got campaign goin' so
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
Spendin' money when your is long
Real street niggas, no clone
We at the top where we
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
When the 'bout to hear this song

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

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

Yeah, they call me Country Grammar, my brother out the
I'm color painted, you can call that Alabama
I'm not Alabama, but check 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 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 better 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 y'all better leave me alone, got for my chrome
Don't lease or your phone talkin' 'bout "Yo' baby gone!"
Tell the truth, I gon' lie, I got so many rides
Don't know which one I'ma drive, fuck it, I'm just fly

Everybody wanna hate 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 this song
I step up out the Maserati car, gotta pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, close out the par', wit' some killers and everybody know who we are
Get Money Gang steppin' the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we 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 racks on
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 entire village I kill and bury
I manipulate your molecular structure, other words, fill 'em up wit' holes
If you try to it to me at the door, I just thought I had to let you know

Big

(I bet your call me Big)
I got single bitches tryin', bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the crib and leave our future in a
I wake up than these motherfuckers as is
Look 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 chains is pow on pow on pow, I'm off 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 fell in love, and I fell in her
called her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You call her
I to collect, no need for a pet
If I throw paper, yo' bitch gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the track gon' be aight as as we got me
(I do it)

I'm the if you wondered where I'm at (Where I'm at)
In the back of a Chevy that's all (All black)
on racks, I don't know how to act (Act)
Track and field with the birds, I'm runnin' 'em track (Track)
throws of money, bet you can't blind (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the I get guap (Guap)
Or the fact when the money go up, it won't (Boy!)
I'm in the club, tryna 'em how to stunt (Stunt)
Tryna up what I'm throw, it prolly take 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 to trip, you can tell 'em that I'm cool as hell (Cool as hell)
'Cause it's the case I know the of pumas 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 flash like cop (Cops)
Couple of foreign cars that I no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I like yachts (Yachts)
A couple of haters lookin', I'm knowin' them hot (Hot)
And tell 'em that I don't give a
Hard as a motherfucker, 'em I was HAM
it what you want, I'ma 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 liq' (Hot!)
Got racks, talkin' tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no bricks (Woo!)
Hit a and a fiendin' 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 Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I sold copies
That ice be my neck and wrist, now anybody wanna play some hockey
I'm nigga in fact (In fact), paper tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on local Walmart rack

Got goin' so strong
Gettin' brain I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' when your money 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 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 racks on

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