Racks (Remix)

{Sonny Digital} [Intro: YC] (YC!) Whatchu got? Racks on racks on racks (He got) racks on racks on racks (We got) racks on racks on raaacks (Leh'go!) Ayy! I got, racks on racks on racks (She got) racks on racks on racks (We got) racks on racks on racks [Hook: YC] Got campaign goin so strong Gettin' brain while I'm talkin on the phone Spend money when ya money gets long Real street nigga, ain't no clone We at the top where we belong Sip lean, Rosé, Patron Smokin on thousand dollar worth of strong When the club 'bout to hear this soooong (Whatchu got?) We got racks on racks on racks (racks) Racks on racks on racks (racks) Racks on racks on racks (racks) Got racks on racks on raaaaacks Got racks on racks on racks (racks) Racks on racks on racks (racks) Racks on racks on racks (racks) Nigga ain't even tryna hold baaaack [Verse 1: YC] Still fresh ahead of my Trues Ice shot, okay, cool Strapped up, know I keep that tool That racks on racks a muh'fuckin fool All around the globe, bein on TV E'rywhere you look, you see YC Hatin ass niggas just wishin they were me YC, YC, YC Way too big for my muh'fuckin jeans I'm so fly I don't even got wings Eyes real low, just blame it on the green Girl caught up, got lean on leaaaaaan That shoebox shit, over with She put it on the rack, won’t notice it My bank count, commas all over it Racks on racks on raaa-aa-acks [Verse 2: Young Jeezy] Young, if it's convertible, then how is it a hardtop? Bitch I hit one button, my roof open like a hard spot (Daaaaaamn!) Make me throw my diamonds up, bitch my life was hard knock Had so much kush and Ciroc, bitch I think my heart stop (Yeaaaaaah!) E'ry night's a weekend, e'ry day’s a Friday night You ain't seen nothin yet, bitch this just my Friday ice 87 brick fare, yeah, I'm talkin thirty racks All I sold is hund'uns, where the fuck my twenties at? [Hook] [Verse 3: Wiz Khalifa] Uh; racks on, racks off, see that blonde stripper, my hat's off Lookin at my Rollie, 'bout thirty grand what that cost Smoke like I'm in Cali, fuck takin flight, I blast off Niggas talkin tattoos, we should have a tat-off Got racks on racks on racks, naps on naps on naps Just made a mil, count another mil, so put that on top of that Way back in 2004, I told 'em it was a wrap Now my life ain't my life no mo', I told you, nigga it's a wrap OOOH! You claim you a dog, my nig, I'm the vet We cain't even talk 'less you cut the check I guess that's why all of these niggas get bad They said, "Fuck a young nigga! Fuck a young nigga!" I know it's some girls in the crowd right now Who wanna fuck a young nigga - yeah! I roll one and roll another one bigger Niggas thinkin they sick, well, I'm sicker I'mma smoke, my weed and I’ma drink, my liquor Better make, sure you fuck ya girl right 'fore I dick her, down [Verse 4: Waka Flocka Flame] (Flocka!) I got racks on top of racks (Uh!) Stacks on top of stacks (Uh!) Bands on top of bands (Uh!) Got me fuckin her and her friends (Uh, Flocka!) Bad boys don’t do papers (Flex!) Double shot for my haters (Flex! Clap!) Clap two times if you druuuuuuuuunk... (CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP, FLOCKA!) Got a bad bitch from the U.K. (Okay!) She do everything I say (Okay!) Go crazy when she hear music (Grove Streeeeeeeet!) She got "Grove St." on replay (Flocka!) Got racks you don't understand (Uh-huh) Money long from here to Japan (Uh-huh) Do it good when she go +No Hands+ Girl, you got me in a traaaaaance [Hook] [Verse 5: CyHi Da Prince] Got racks on racks on racks (racks), y'all rap so wack on wax (wax) Purple by the pound, that's that Flacco -- haaaaaah! I make big plays, I got big chips, blew money like six Crips Switch gears like stick shifts, fresh as hell, I'm Big Gipp We buy cars. y’all flip whips, catch us smokin that quick trip Pitch piff, that's a handspring, I like to call that a quick flip Pull triggers like hamstrings, boy I'm doin my damn thing Been blood with them bricks pimp, get (off) a (key) like I can't sing Got the seven on me like big jersey, ridin round in this bitch dirty I'm the best, hands down, they nicknamed me 6:30 I'm wit Young Dose and YC, Redan Road, that's my street Ask around on the Eastside, I'm the S-H-I-T [Verse 6: Bun B] Yeah... Bun B, I'm Underground King (King) In the candy-painted car on swang (swang) With the top on drop and the trunk on pop Boy you cain't tell me a damn thang (thang) Fifth wheel on the back just hang (hang) Hit corners, hit licks, hit stains (stains) With the grill in the front (wood wheel) In the plush showin neon lights on my paint (paint) Yeah, I rep that P-A-T (A-T) One hundred, yeah that's me (that's me) If you don't recognize you gon' see (gon' see) I'm a straight up Trill O.G. (O.G.) In a black-on-black-on-black (black) Cadillac like a mack on clacks (clacks) Try to jack and I will attack It's a fact that I ain’t givin up my stacks like that! [Verse 7: B.o.B] Call me Bobby Ray, but it's not two names Flyin' through the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne (Whoo!) No, not Bombs Over Baghdad But on the track, you can call me Hussein (Hoo-hah-hah!) That's why they nervous (gasp) Like I'm flyin on the plane with a turban (woo!) But I'm fly, y'all just turbulence Exit row, emergency (Mayday!) As a kid, I was struck by lightning (Pow!) It's no wonder I'm electrifyin Ha! Fuck a brainstorm I'll fuck around and cause a power outage (BANG!) And it ain't no rivals, if it was, it'd be no survivors (No!) But just gimme a hour, I'll light it up like an Eiffel Tower [Verse 8: Yo Gotti] (I'm Yo Goooooti!) Got bills on top of bills (bills), scales on top of scales (scales) I'm Mr. All White (White), got yell' on top of yell' Got pills all on my phone, these niggas know I’m wrong Said 50 for a song, and they won’t leave me ‘lone Gotta front me a brick, that ain’t nothin’ to you Just ran through a ticket, there ain’t nothin’ to do Yeah, I love these streets like I love the booth Mr. Cocaine Music, I’m 100 proof Got white on white on white, ice on ice on ice And when I’m in the club it look like lights on lights on lights [Hook] [Verse 9: Wale] Yeah, racks on racks on racks I'm tryna smash and not call back My name Wale, you so silly Wet my willie, might call you a cab, yeah Ridin around wit that reefer scent Ridin around with Miss Reece and them When I'm in the groove, I can freak a tune I'm smoother than, alopecia skin -- HAHA!! I shows out, like dope when I put that flow down Like 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 more ones I told her bring that money back, like all them racks is Nordstrom’s Whoooooa! [Verse 10: Cory Gunz] The tracks on snack off raps (raps) See stacks from back of my slacks (slacks) From the X or the Macs in the Ac' (br-r-r-rat) If I ain't strapped, then the gats on scat (on scat) Then he black on 'em like Tae-Bo (Tae-Bo) Then he clap on 'em like bravo (bravo) Throw sacks on 'em like y'all hoes (y'all hoes) Got racks on 'em like tight hoooooes Young Money, Cash Money so strong (strong) Keep scorin, I'mma bring it on home (home) Those Xans and the lean cause zones (zones) Somethin tan with a mean jawboooone Worldwide, but I got fourth ways (fourth ways) One hat carry like four blades (four blades) Petey Popoff R.I.P., free Lou Been lootin money since like fourth grade I'm the shit nowadays, so they wave (wave) No whips, no chains, I'm a slave (slave) Let you niggas know Milita my gang (gang) MC aim if you was thinkin it's a game (game) See me with the twin, buck a shimmy with the gauge (gauge) Word to Bus' and Jimmy, I'd be busy gettin paid Goin for the grips every day 'til the grave I be worried about the chips, you be worried about the (Lay's) BEYITCH! [Verse 11: Dose] Got Activist in my Sprite (lean), Benjamins in my Robins (boi!) Frank Muller wit flooded ice, but I still got my brightness In the fast lane, gettin slow brain in a 2012 Maserati I'm kickin, pimpin, like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin like Friday Puffin on that garlic (gas), sick off all the Marley (boi!) Inked up on my hands and arms, got Def Jam in my pocket Shout out to Sha Money, signed me in a hurry Daddy was a kingpin, a couple milli buried Nigga, you ain't talkin nuttin (nuttin) All in Flight Corps stuntin (stuntin) These exclusive 7s Paid four hundered for the Jordans (Jordans) No, you cain't afford 'em (fly daddy) Sharper than a swordsman Racks on racks, our campaign strong And YC like my brother - dueces! [Verse 12: Cory Mo] Catch me in the city with the trunk on crack Top dropped down, black on black Fistful of wood, twisted for the good Check my bank account, got racks on racks Look around fool, got a wall full of plaque Platinum and gold, you gots ta love that Posted up just like a thumbtack Better hide ya ho, cause she bound to get snatched H-Town, Texas to ATL She got a fat ass, she prol'ly know me well Keep it on the low, never kiss and tell True player, Cory Mo cold as hell Shows to do, got records to sell Got a whole lotta BMI checks in the mail If ballin was a crime, I'd be in jail Locked up for double life like "What the hell?!" [Hook] [Verse 13: Nelly] Yeah, they call me Country Grammar, my brother out the slammer I'm crimson color painted, you can call that Alabama I'm not from Alabama, but check out how I roll tide He might have the same whip, but check out how I roll mine Y'all niggas ain't no stars (stars), y'all only in it for the cars (cars) The sky is yo' limit mayne, and mine somewhere 'bout Mars I ride wit them boys in the middle of the map St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-Town, Nap Down to the Dirty, back up through the trap But the money don't stack man, money overlap Yeah, y'all better watch it mayne, right here we lock and load Two things is for certain mayne, and one thing is fa sho' Got a house on hundred acres, I've never seen my neighbors A chick in ATL and from Buckhead to Decatur (Let's go!) Now y'all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome Police on yo' mama phone talkin 'bout, "Yo' baby gooooone!" Tell the truth, I ain't gon' lie (lie), I got so many rides (rides) Don't know which one I'mma drive -- fuck it, I'm just gon' flyyyyyyy! [Verse 14: Twista] Everybody wanna hate because I'm on (cause I'm on) Blowin head back, bottles by the zone (by the zone) Twista finna get up on the track and spit it the way I do Simp-ily because I like this song (song) When I step up out the Maserati car Gotta pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar (jar) Then I blow, I'mma close out the par' Wit some killers and everybody know who we are Get Money Gang steppin through the do' ('cago) Chicago, 'cago, 'cago ('cago) Anybody wanna get into it, c'mon and do it Fuck security, we gon' make 'em feel the flo' (feel the flo') Might as well get it off yo' chest While everybody got ammunition on deck (on deck) I don't see them, see them. as a, as a threat Cause I got racks on racks on racks (on racks) Oh! Twista, I see your future, finna 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-I-I could destroy an entire village when I kill and bury Cause I manipulate your molecular structure Other words, fill 'em up wit holes (wit holes) If you try to give it to me at the do' (at the do') I just thought I had to let you knoooow [Verse 15: Big Sean] (I bet yo' bitch call me Big...) Now I got single bitches tryin (tryin), married bitches lyin (lyin) I take 'em to the crib and leave our future in a condom I wake up fresher than these motherfuckers as is Look inside my closet (look!) That shit look like it's Raks Fifth (Raks Fifth) Man, that's racks on racks on racks On top of packs on top of pounds My chains is pow on pow on pow I'm off them trees, no I ain't no owl I'm at the altar sayin my vows To this Benjamin Franklin pile You buy her a house, I won't buy her a vowel You fell in love and I fell in her mouth They called her Dickface, she call the connect (Call the connect?) You call her collect I call to collect, no need for a pet If I throw this paper, yo bitch gon' fetch! (...Do it) ...B-I-G And Detroit gon' be aight as long as we got me - I do it [Verse 16: Trae Tha Truth] I'm in the hood if you wondered where I'm at (where I'm at) In the back of a Chevy that's all black (all black) Racks on racks, I don’t know how to act (act) Track and field with the birds, I'm runnin 'em like track (track) Free throws of money, bet you cain't block (block) King of the club, I bet you cain't top (top) Bitch niggas hate the fact I get gwap (gwap) Or the fact when the money go up, it won’t stop (Come up!) I'm in the club, tryna show 'em how to stunt (stunt) Tryna pick up what I throw, it prol'ly take 'em 'bout a month (month) The club underwater, have 'em runnin out the front While I'm somewhere in the back, gettin blowed like a blunt (blunt) No need to trip, you can tell 'em that I'm cool as hell (cool as hell) Cause if it's the case, I'm known to the pack the tool as well (tool as well) Blood motherfucker, nothing new to tell (new to tell) Got both underneath the old school as well (school as well) I got lights on my wrist that'll flash like cop (cop) Couple of foreign cars that I ride no top (top) Couple of whi-whips that I ride like yachts (yachts) A couple of haters lookin, I'm knowin them niggas hot (hot) You can tell 'em that I don't give a damn Hard As a Motherfucker, tell 'em I was H.A.M Call it what you want, I'mma do it for the fam Yeah, that's the type of nigga that I am [Verse 17: Ace Hood] Okay, I'm back off into this bitch (bitch!) Wit a cup, and it's full of that liq' (hot!) Got racks, ain't talkin tits (feel dat!) Big stacks, no Lego bricks (Whoo!) Hit a trick and if any nigga got it I keep that hottie, just look at her body Blew twenty bands in that King of Diamonds Sorry, that's just part of my hobby (Swoop!) And I hear 'em feelin my Florida swagger So dope, shoulda sold y'all copies That ice be onto my neck and wrist Now anybody wanna play some hockey?! (HAAH!) I'm that nigga in fact (in fact) Paper tall as Shaq (Oh boy!) "Blood Sweat and Tears" It'll be on your local Walmart rack - soon! [Hook]