Chorus Got campaign going so strong Getting brain while I’m talking on the phone Spend money when ya moneys this long Real street niccas ain’t no clone We at the top where we belong Spread lean Rozay Patrone Smoking on thousand dollar worth of strong When the club outta here its on Got Racks on racks on racks Racks on racks on racks Racks on racks on racks Got Racks on racks on racks Got Racks on racks on racks Racks on racks on racks Racks on racks on racks nicca hating me ain’t even tryna hold back
Got a car lot in my garage Got a condo down in the stars I’m geaked up off them bars Got a car I don’t even gotta park No keys push button start She ain’t a dime I won’t get hard Got hoes that need a green card Say I’ma dawg but I don’t even gotta bark Got swag that bite like sharks One hit I’ma knock it out the park Trap beating so goddamn hard Got Kush, Got Lean, Got barre got remix hard as scale Got bricks don’t need no scale I’m plugged in with the mail I’m part of the cartel Got rerock ain’t no cling 6 two hundred for a nin Then !! it all up on jeans I’ma true religion fiend’ Got bands in the pockets of my jeans Need a kickstand way I lean Promethazine fiend Stamped on sprite and lean
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(Future) No choice by force I sport Then go and cop some ice Designer on my mojo I live in the spotlight Real street nicca ain’t no flaw Young future gotta keep that raw That swag I gave you niccas I’ma need me a round of ‘plause (Bravo Bravo Bravo Bravo Bravo Bravo Bravo) Got a hundred thousand dollars worth of clothes Im froze I’m froze I’m cold I keep me a big bank roll I ain’t trickin off on these hoes
These hoes bringin’ me they soul I will never sell my soul Cashed out on all the cars These foreign foreign broads Got a nicca living in the stars I’m on my way to mars Got Keisha, Pam, and Nikki They all wanna do a Minaj Ay one freeband freeband We ain’t ever got a god damn large
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Y’all know I keep them racks I stay counting them stacks Ya girl won’t leave me lone Wanna !! now she attached Flow hot don’t need no match Sell work don’t pay no tax I’m turnt up to the max Don’t even know how to relax I drank so much that lean Had to wake up on a bean Got racks all in my jeans Man busting out the seams Got kush all in my lungs Get High like Cheech & Chong 800 a zone I ain’t blowin’ unless it strong Catch hell on my iPhone Catch mine and then I’m gone The girl won’t leave I can not take her home I’m gone on them bars !! I’m not a star I’m driving foreign cars Strapped up no bodyguards