Racks

Racks
Racks
Racks

Rick Rock Beats

[Verse 1: Nef The Pharaoh]
I got a hundred bands, then I hit the running man
Me and Peezy split a check and went and bought a hundred fans
Military guns with holographic sight on 'em
And this big Dirty Harry got a little bite on 'em
Glock forty-two, GFO, this bitch wrapped
Three-eighty do 'em shady bust your nigga it his nap
Another check another strap, bitch I got racks
The Bay died down 'til the Chang brought it back
I mastered the art of communication, mack
Zap on my lap blowin' High Chew I stay strapped
Shiny P-ninety head shot, now he flat
Niggas talkin' sweet, get him gone for the racks
Yeah, yeah

[Chorus: Goldie Gold]
We hit the trap, and thug it out
We make it flip, like fuck a drought
We hit the trap, and thug it out
We make it flip, like fuck a drought

[Bridge: Rick Rock]
'Cause I'ma need my (Racks)
That's why I said "Just give me a hundred percent, I'm givin' two hundred"
Bring six [?] (Racks)
Kick do' for my (Racks)
Man
King comin' for my (Racks)
Yeah

[Verse 2: Rick Rock]
I've only been a millionaire once
Been a hundred-thousandaire ten years, eight months
Blaps Basterdly, Northern Cali King of Slaps
Classic mob slaps and I bought a car that cost a hundred (Racks)
Bitch nigga, I'm back, and I'm really from them sevens though
Little scandalous ass city but we relevant though
Thought she was a freak, but she was celibate though
Left me there stiffer than a pelican nose
Bitch, you want blow, what the fuck don't you know?
I don't trip on no ho, I will call you an Uber, then hit the front door
Tippy-toe like a cougar on Zeniths and Vogues
Yeah, yeah

[Chorus: Goldie Gold]
We hit the trap, and thug it out
We make it flip, like fuck a drought
We hit the trap, and thug it out
We make it flip, like fuck a drought

[Bridge: Rick Rock]
'Cause I'ma need my (Racks)
[?] for my (Racks)
Kick do' for my (Racks)
King comin' for my (Racks)
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 3: Mazerati Ricky]
Rick Rockzilla's runnin' round
They love real boys, Vallejo, Richmond and The Town
In the fed, my city niggas held me down
I was prayin' on my knees, now they lookin' at me now
Aw racks, look like a million on my arm
Fif-fifty illest with us still lookin' for [?]
Was on the run, half a million dollar bond
Couldn't get me on the body so they stressed me on the gun
Me and Snoop still thuggin' in the [?], projects
If she love me, she gonna give me what I want
Your clique bunk, if you ain't poppin' tags
Two mismatched forties in my red-bottom bag
It's High Chewy fuck it, roll a Zag
Free the real, hope this makes you send fifty to your man
I want the little bitch to draw Ricky in the sand
Tell them ballin' niggas that I got fifty of them pounds

Racks
Racks
Racks
Racks