YC - Racks (Extended Remix) (feat. Young Jeezy, Wiz Khalifa, Waka Flocka Flame, CyHi Da Prynce, Bun B, B.o.B., Yo Gotti, Wale, Cory Gunz, Dose, Cory Mo, Nelly, Twista, Big Sean, Trae Tha Truth & Ace Hood) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• YC
• Racks (Extended Remix) (feat. Young Jeezy, Wiz Khalifa, Waka Flocka Flame, CyHi Da Prynce, Bun B, B.o.B., Yo Gotti, Wale, Cory Gunz, Dose, Cory Mo, Nelly, Twista, Big Sean, Trae Tha Truth & Ace Hood)

[YC: Intro]
(YC!) What you 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
(They got) racks on racks on racks

[YC - Chorus]
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 (What you 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, coon
Strapped up, know I keep that tool
That racks on racks a muthafuckin' fool
All around the globe, bein' on TV
E'rywhere you look, you see YC
Hatin' ass niggaz just wishin' they were me — YC, YC, YC
Way too big for my muthafuckin' 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 (Yeaaaaaaaah!)
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?

[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
Niggaz 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 niggaz 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
Niggaz thinkin' they sick, well, I'm sicker
I'ma smoke, my weed and I'ma drink, my liquor
Better make, sure you fuck ya girl right 'fore I dick her, down

(Flocka!)

[Verse 4: Waka Flocka Flame]
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!)
Stacks on top of stacks (Uh!)
Bands on top of bands (Uh!)
Got me fuckin' her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad boys don't do papers (Flex!)
Double shot for (Flex!) my haters (Clap!)
Clap two times if you druuuuuuuuunk
(CLAP CLAP CLAP GO GO GO, 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

[Chorus]

[Verse 5: CyHi Da Prynce]
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/blue 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 can'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 (pPaint)
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 OG) (OG)
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

[Chorus]

[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'ma 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 niggaz 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 7's, pay four hundered for the Jordans (Jordans)
No, you can'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 plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots ta love that
Posted up just like a thumbtack
Better hide ya hoe, '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

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