Racks On Me Lyrics

You know it's Lil Voe on the beat
I was so far at the bottom
Nigga couldn't even see the top
Now I'm so motherfuckin' up
I'm afraid to fuckin' drop
Woo, woo, I'm afraid to fuckin' stop
Woo, woo, woo, yeah

Money all on these Balmains
I got all of these racks on me
I can afford to blow a bag
I got all of these racks on me
I can run it up and fuck it up
I got all of these racks on me
I just cheated on my main bitch
But my side comin' back to me

I'm ballin' on these broke niggas
Check the highlights on Sports Center
I'm Michael Jordan on the court, nigga
Scottie Pippen, that's my lil nigga
Shoot the threes like Reggie Miller
Sell the cookies by the pound, nigga
Smoke the gas by the ounce, nigga
Roll it up and burn it down, nigga
I'm gettin' head in a private flight
I might just fly to Dubai tonight
I might fly to Tokyo tomorrow
Just to drift in a foreign car
I'm on them bars and I'm dozin' off
I had to wake up and count it up
When the money call I pick it up
If it ain't 'bout money, bitch I'm hangin' up
Broke niggas get the dial tone
Thot hoes get wild on
Got a quater million worth of jewelry on me
Lookin' like I got headlights on me
I'm in that demon, no Hellcat
And I done make it through hell and back
Now a young nigga got hella racks
And I fuck on your bitch for the hell of it

Money all on these Balmains
I got all of these racks on me
I can afford to blow a bag
I got all of these racks on me
I can run it up and fuck it up
I got all of these racks on me
I just cheated on my main bitch
But my side comin' back to me

Givinchy, Givenchy, whatever you call it
Drip down to my [?]
Somebody left on the frozen
We gon' shop, we don't drip out the closet
No withdrawals, only makin' deposits
I'ma run to the money like Forest
Hit the lot, I'ma buy me a foreign
I done got big, got me feelin' important
Pockets fat like [?] from orbit
I took flight to the top, now I'm soarin'
I might buy me a car when I'm bored
I'ma buy everything I couldn't afford
I'm ballin' on niggas who keepin' the score
I don't give a damn about gettin' rewards
I'ma make sure that I put up the point
They didn't believe when I said I'm the one
Put up a twenty, I'm [?] for my son
Fight like a man, we gon' shoot, we don't run
I let the bros hit the road with a gun
Yeah, whole lotta racks on me
She mad 'cause she can't get a piece
All a nigga wear Amiri jeans
And a nigga livin' out his dreams

Money all on these Balmains
I got all of these racks on me
I can afford to blow a bag
I got all of these racks on me
I can run it up and fuck it up
I got all of these racks on me
I just cheated on my main bitch
But my side comin' back to me

I got a fetish for horses
Polos and Ferraris
And I just copped an Aston Martin
Push button, I can start it
I ain't even gotta park it
Swear I'm goin' dumb, retarded
Swear I'm goin' HAM in the trap
Serve a nigga brick with the strap
Finesse his ass, no cap
Water diamonds, no tap
They know that I'm paid
They know that I'm good
They know that I'm strait
I'm cookin' an eight
I'm boomin' a spot
I don't work in a base
The racks in the safe
The steak on my plate
I'm on my way

Money all on these Balmains
I got all of these racks on me
I can afford to blow a bag
I got all of these racks on me
I can run it up and fuck it up
I got all of these racks on me
I just cheated on my main bitch
But my side comin' back to me