[Verse 1 - Corny]
From a place just south of maryland, it's only right I gotta be more
Bitch I'm on the road to riches and I never take a detour
Tho these bitches want the sack like an old school Richard Seymour
In a 3-4. I need three floors in my mansion plus some decor:
Some curtains, chandeliers
I gotta Dutch rolled up, a couple grams in here
I'm the man around here, all the fans revere
Rhymebook loaded up like a bandolier
Spit that shit; my planned career
Get that shit, stop standing here
I gotta follow my dreams, banish fear
And leave a mark on the game like a branded steer
Boy, that means I own it, screaming fuck all my opponents
Killing every beat I get on and not asking for atonement
I don't need your forgiveness, you dipshits insist its business
What is this? These hypocrites spit shit but they haven't really lived it
Talking like they're rappin but they lost all of the passion, I ain't bashin on the fashion or passin on what you're ashin
But the fact is the past of rappin is over and behind us so give me a mic and lend me your ears as I remind us
It's kind of funny what time does...
Let me rewind us back to the start of it
When the art of it was a part of it
When you got shit when you started it
When the artists spit about real shit
You'd listen and you'd feel shit
Fuck all this record deal shit
With the shooters on that Bradley Beal shit
22 inch rims on a Maserati body, but I'd rather whip the Audi with a hotty ridin shotty
Prolly with your Ole Misses I ain't talkin Hotty Toddy but I kinda like her body so I gotta get inside it
Uh, that's fake shit
That sounds good so they make it
But I'm here to make some changes
We don't give a fuck about your wages
We want shit we can relate with
All these phony ass rappers are makeshift
I've come here to replace them
And leave behind a legacy of greatness
I'm the greatest, I say this
And I mean this, but I'm not famous
Like Wayne is, or like Drake is
But what the fuck? Even 2 Chainz is!
This game is, Lois Lane bitch
And I'm Superman here to save it
My all is what I gave it
Now it's Racked up's turn, go apeshit!
[Verse 2 - Racked Up Ru$$ell]
Its Racked Up Ru$$ell and I'm here to build my brand
Rolling dank strains on a strand with my clan yea my fam
Clear blue water, soft white sand
That's a tall order when you drive your mom's van
Supply the block with grams
Then I saw the cops and ran
I got no gucci on my belt but I don't give a fuck
Still got sperries on my feet and liquor in my cup!
While you're on your knees asking "why god?"
I'll be burning trees asking "why not!"
Life's a game of chess I want that piece at the end of the line
Cause I'm going to the top not gonna stop till the castles mine
Me and you we are the same
Still ride with a
Closed circle, zero lames
I just need my one brain
Fuck your 2 chainz
I got 3 names
Racked Up Ru$$ell smoking 4 strains!
But now every motherfucking kid want the same goddamn things
A phone that rings
Fresh levi jeans
Some rice and beans
But what the hell you gonna do when the government you leaning on
To put food in your arms and green on your lawn
Keeps putting out bullshit and leading you on
I'm spitting real rap not that damn media song
See the fiends with the bong and the needle in they arm
Need some weed that is strong and some dope that runs up
Well the neighborhood dealers always got their funds up
I want that phone I want those jeans
I want the rice and beans for my hunger
So I built my stash copped a strap
Made some cash but still at night I wonder
That if I die before I wake
I pray that Corny will be great
Put some Dutches inside my grave
I'll spark one up by heavens gate
Shoutout my mans SpaceMateNate
Take no chances create your fate
