Luyện nghe bài hát Racks On Racks

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

Got goin' 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
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 racks on (Racks)
Got racks on on racks

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

YC

Still fresh, yeah, and in my
Iced out, okay,
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 wishin' they me
YC, YC, YC
Way too big for my ma'fuckin'
I'm so fly I even got wings
Eyes real low, just it on the green
Girl cut up, got on lean
That shit, over with
She put it on the rack, notice it
My bank 'count, commas all it
Racks on on racks

Jeezy

Young, if it's convertible, how is it a hardtop?
Bitch, I hit one button, my roof open like a spot
Make me throw my diamonds up, bitch, my life was knock
Had so much kush and Ciroc, bitch, I think my stop
Every night's a weekend, every a Friday night
You ain't seen nothin' yet, bitch, this just my ice
'87, brick fare, yeah, I'm talkin' thirty
All I is hundos, where the fuck my twenties at?

Wiz

Racks on, off, see that 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 should a tat-off
Got racks on on racks, naps on naps on naps
Just made a mill, count another mill, so put on top of that
Way in 2004, I told 'em it was a wrap
Now my life my life no more, I told you, nigga, it's a wrap
Oooh, you you a dog, my nigga, I'm the vet
We even talk 'less you got the check, I guess that's why all of these niggas get bent
They "Fuck a young nigga, fuck a young nigga"
I know it's some girls in the crowd now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I roll one and roll another one
Niggas thinkin' sick, well, I'm sicker
I'ma smoke my weed and I'ma drink my
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!)
on top of bands (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!) Clap two times if you
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 racks you understand (Uh-huh)
Money long from to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it when she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
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 this song

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

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 six Crips
Switch gears like stick
as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, y'all whips
Catch us smokin' quick trip
Pitch piff, that's a
I like to call that a flip
Pull triggers like
Boy, I'm doin' my thing
Baby blood them bricks, pimp
Get off a key like I sing
Got the seven on me big jersey
Ridin' round, and this dirty
I'm the best, down
They nicknamed me
I'm wit' Young and YC
Readell Road, that's my
Ask on the Eastside
I'm the

Bun B

Bun B, I'm underground
In the candy-painted car on
With the top on drop and the on pop
Boy, you can't me a damn thang
Fifth on the back just hang
Hit corners, hit licks, hit
With the grill in the front, wood in the blunts
You're on neon lights in my
Yeah, I rep that
One hundred, yeah, me
If you recognize, you gon' see
I'm a trill OG
In a
Cadillac, like a Mack on
Try to and I will attack
It's a fact that I givin' up my stacks like that

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but not two names
Flyin' the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not bombs Baghdad
But on the track, you can me Hussein
why they nervous, hmmm, like 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 by lightning, it's no wonder I'm electrifying
Fuck a brainstorm, I'll fuck and cause a power outage
And it ain't no rivals, if it was, it'd be no
Just gimme a hour, I'll light it up like an Tower

Yo

Got on top of bills, scales on top of scales
I'm Mr. All White, got on top of yell'
Got pills all on my phone, niggas know I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they leave me 'lone
Gotta front me a brick, ain't nothin' to you
ran through a ticket, there ain't nothin' to do
Yeah, I love these streets like I 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' brain when I'm on the phone
Spendin' money your money is long
Real street niggas, ain't no
We at the top where we
Drink lean, rose,
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
When the club to hear this song

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

Racks on racks on racks, I'm tryna smash and not call
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, call you a cab
Yeah, ridin' around wit' that reefer scent, ridin' around with Ms. and them
When I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune, I'm smoother than skin
I shows out, 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 bags, but all I want is more 1s
I told her "Bring that money back" like all them racks is

Gunz

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks back of my slacks
From the X to the in the Ac, if I ain't strapped, then the gats on scat
Then he on 'em like Tae Bo, then he clap on 'em like bravo
Throw sacks on 'em like y'all hoes, got racks on 'em tight hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, keep scorin', I'ma bring it on
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, tan with a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like blades
Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin' money since like fourth grade
I'm the nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave
Let you niggas Milita 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 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' flooded ice, but I still got my
In the fast lane, gettin' slow brain in a Maserati
I'm kickin', pimpin', like Liu Kang, my smokin' like Friday
Puffin' on 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 couple buried
Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Flight Corps
exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can't afford 'em, sharper a swordsman
Racks on racks, our strong, and YC like my brother

Mo

Catch me in the with the trunk on crack
Top down, black on black
Fistful of wood, for the good
Check my bank account, got racks on
Look around, fool, got a full of plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots to love
Posted up like 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, never kiss and
True player, Cory Mo cold as
to do, got records to sell
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 campaign goin' so
Gettin' brain when I'm on the phone
Spendin' 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 on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on on racks

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

Yeah, call me Country 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 have the same whip, but check out how I roll mine
Y'all niggas no stars, y'all only in it for the cars
The sky is your limit, mayne, and mine somewhere Mars
I ride wit' them in the middle of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
to the Dirty, back up through the trap
But the don't stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, y'all watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one thing is fa
Got a on hundred acres, I've never seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from to Decatur
Now y'all better leave me alone, got license for my
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 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 simp-a-ly because I this song
When I step up out the Maserati car, gotta pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it the jar
Then I blow, I'ma close out the par', wit' some and everybody know who we are
Get Gang steppin' 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 on deck
I don't see them T-Dum-Izzle as a threat, 'cause I got on racks on racks
Oh, Twista, I see your future, shoot 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, words, fill '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 bitch call me Big)
I got single tryin', married bitches lyin'
I take 'em to the and leave our future 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 racks on 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 in love, and I fell in her mouth
called her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You call her
I to collect, no need for a pet
If I throw this paper, yo' gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the track be aight as long 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 the birds, I'm runnin' 'em like track (Track)
Free throws of money, bet you blind (Blind)
of the club, I bet you can't top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the I get guap (Guap)
Or the fact the money go up, it won't stop (Boy!)
I'm in the club, show 'em how to stunt (Stunt)
Tryna pick up what I'm throw, it prolly take a month (Month)
The club underwater, 'em runnin' out the front
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 I know the pack of pumas well (Pumas well)
I'm a blood motherfucker, that tell (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 like yachts (Yachts)
A of haters lookin', I'm knowin' them 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, that's the type of nigga I am

Ace

Okay, I'm back off this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and it's of that liq' (Hot!)
Got racks, ain't talkin' (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no Lego (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, that's part of my hobby (Swoop!)
And I hear 'em feelin' my Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I y'all copies
That ice be onto my neck and wrist, now anybody wanna play some
I'm nigga in fact (In fact), paper tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on your Walmart rack

Got campaign goin' so
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
Spendin' money when 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 hear song

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

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