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 on racks on racks
(She got) Racks on racks on
(They got) Racks on on racks

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

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

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

YC

fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay,
Trapped up, I keep that tool
That racks on racks so ma'fuckin'
All around the globe, on TV
you look, you see YC
Hatin'-ass niggas just wishin' were me
YC, YC, YC
Way too big for my ma'fuckin'
I'm so fly I don't even got
Eyes real low, just it on the green
Girl cut up, got lean on
shoebox shit, over with
She put it on the rack, notice it
My 'count, commas all over it
on racks on racks

Young

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

Wiz

on, racks off, see that blonde stripper, my hat's off
Lookin' at my Rollie, 'bout thirty grand what that
Smoke like I'm in Cali, takin' flight, I blast off
Niggas talkin' tattooes, we have a tat-off
Got racks on racks on racks, on naps on naps
made 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 talk 'less you got the check, I guess that's why all of these niggas get bent
said "Fuck a young nigga, fuck a young nigga"
I know it's some in the crowd right now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I roll one and roll another one
Niggas thinkin' they sick, well, I'm
I'ma smoke my and I'ma drink my liquor
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!)
Bands on top of (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 times if you
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 racks you understand (Uh-huh)
Money from here to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it when she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a

Got goin' so strong
Gettin' brain when I'm talkin' on the
Spendin' money when your money is
Real niggas, ain't no clone
We at the top where we
lean, rose, Patron
Smokin' on a thousand dollars strong
When the club 'bout to hear song

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

Got on racks on racks (Racks)
on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on on racks
Nigga, I even tryna hold back

Cyhi The

Got racks on racks on racks, rap so wack on wax
Purple by the pound, that Flacco, haaaa
I big plays, I got big chips
money like six Crips
Switch gears like stick
as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, flip whips
us smokin' that quick trip
Pitch piff, a handspring
I like to call that a quick
Pull triggers hamstrings
Boy, I'm doin' my damn
Baby with them bricks, pimp
Get off a key like I sing
Got the on me like big jersey
Ridin' round, and this dirty
I'm the best, down
They nicknamed me
I'm wit' Young and YC
Readell Road, my street
Ask on the Eastside
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 tell me a damn thang
Fifth wheel on the back hang
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 don't recognize, you see
I'm a straight-up OG
In a
Cadillac, a Mack on clacks
Try to and I will attack
It's a fact that I ain't givin' up my stacks like

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but not two names
Flyin' the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not over Baghdad
But on the track, you can call me
That's why they nervous, hmmm, like I'm 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, no wonder 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
Just gimme a hour, I'll light it up an Eiffel Tower

Yo

Got bills on top of bills, on top of scales
I'm Mr. All White, got on top of yell'
Got all on my phone, these niggas know I'm wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won't leave me
Gotta front me a brick, that ain't to you
ran through a ticket, there ain't nothin' to do
Yeah, I love these like I love the booth
Mr. Cocaine Music, I'm 100
Got white on on white, ice on ice on ice
And I'm in the club it look like lights on lights on lights

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

We got racks on 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 tryna hold

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

Cory

The on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks
From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain't strapped, then the gats on
he black on 'em like Tae Bo, then he clap on 'em like bravo
Throw 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
Those Xans and the lean zones, somethin' tan with a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got ways, one hat carry like four blades
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin' money since like grade
I'm the nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I'm a slave
Let you niggas know Milita my gang, MCN if you was it's a game
See me with the twin, 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 about the Lay's

Got Activist in my Sprite, in my Robins
Frank Muller flooded ice, but I still got my brightness
In the fast lane, gettin' slow brain in a 2012
I'm kickin', pimpin', like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin' Friday
on that garlic, sick off all the Marley
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my
Shout out to Sha Money, me in a hurry
Daddy was a kingpin, a couple milli
Nigga, you ain't talkin' nothin', all in Flight stuntin'
exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can't afford 'em, than a swordsman
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC my brother

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
Look around, fool, got a wall of plaques
Platinum and gold, you to love that
Posted up just 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, Mo cold as hell
to do, got records to sell
Got a lotta BMI checks in the mail
If ballin' was a crime, I'd be in
Locked up for life like "What the hell?"

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' when I'm talkin' on the phone
Spendin' money your money is long
Real street niggas, 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 racks on on racks (Racks)
Racks on 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 on racks
Nigga, I ain't even hold back

Yeah, they me Country Grammar, my brother out the slammer
I'm color painted, you can call that Alabama
I'm not from Alabama, but check out how I tide
He might have the same whip, but check out how I roll
Y'all niggas ain't no stars, y'all only in it for the
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
to the Dirty, back up through the trap
But the don't stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one is fa sho'
Got a house on hundred acres, I've never my neighbors
A in ATL and from Buckhead to Decatur
Now better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Don't lease or your mama talkin' 'bout "Yo' baby gone!"
the truth, I ain't gon' lie, I got so many rides
Don't know which one I'ma drive, it, I'm just gon' fly

Everybody wanna hate I'm on, blowin' head back, bottles by the zone
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 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 steppin' through the do', Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon' make 'em 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, 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 entire village when I 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 just I had to let you know

Big

(I bet bitch call me Big)
I got single bitches tryin', married bitches
I take 'em to the crib and leave our in a condom
I wake up fresher than motherfuckers as is
Look inside my closet, that shit like it's Raks Fifth
Man, that's racks on racks on racks on top of 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 to this Benjamin Franklin power
You buy her a house, I won't buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I in her mouth
They her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You call her
I call to collect, no for a pet
If I this paper, yo' bitch gon' fetch
(Do it!)
And the track gon' be 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 of a Chevy that's all black (All black)
Racks on racks, I know how to act (Act)
Track and field with the birds, I'm runnin' 'em like (Track)
Free throws of money, bet you can't (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the fact I get (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 pick up what I'm throw, it prolly take a month (Month)
The club underwater, 'em runnin' out the front
I'm somewhere in the back, gettin' blowed like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can 'em that I'm cool as hell (Cool as hell)
'Cause it's the case I know the pack of pumas (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 that'll flash like cop (Cops)
Couple of foreign cars I ride 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
as a motherfucker, tell '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 off into this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit' a cup, and it's full of that (Hot!)
Got racks, talkin' tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no Lego (Woo!)
Hit a and a fiendin' nigga got it
I keep that hottie, 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 sold y'all
That ice be onto my and wrist, now anybody wanna play some hockey
I'm that nigga in (In fact), paper tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it'll be on your Walmart rack

Got campaign so strong
Gettin' brain when I'm 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 thousand dollars worth
When the 'bout to hear this 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 tryna hold