I got them racks in, let’s get it
I remember riding round in Honda Civics, yeah
Let’s go
Yeah
Yeah, yeah
(Chorus: Mykko Montana & PTC Reeko)
I got them racks in, let’s get it
I remember riding round in Honda Civics
I’m in New York with Big, no Diddy
Hat to the back, A-Town fitted
Nigga I just ran them racks up
You know what’s craccin, my nigga it’s up
Don Julio all in my cup
Fucking yo’ bitch got my dick in her throat
Finna go up, up
Lil bitch I’m rockstar lit
That young nigga ran his bucks up
Ain’t stressing ‘bout no bitch
You know I’m bound to fuck the club up
I’m finna pop my shit (yeah, mhmm)
I got them racks in my pocket
Dripping too hard bitch I don’t need a stylist
(Verse 1: PTC Reeko)
Papertrail Circle the gang, we the posse
Watch them young niggas take off like a rocket
I’ll beat a nigga ass like Rocky
Dripping too hard, bitch I don’t need a stylist
I got me a check just to flood out my watches
(What you know about the bricks, lil nigga?)
We don’t do dissing on Twitter
I came out the jungle with apes and gorillas
They bound to come get you
Watch how you move when you with a killer
I got ‘bout like 2 bitches in a Sprinter
Free all my dawgs out that fucking kennel
I slide on a hot block in the Winter
Push the foreign like a rental
Cut off my hands, I ain’t ever gone feel ‘em
Cut off they legs, throw it in the river
I’ll get a rap nigga ate for dinner
Dripping in black and gold like the Steelers
Ain’t beefing ‘bout nat hoes, I’ma drill ‘em
I remember I ain’t have no skrilla
Now I’m running laps, bitch I’m chasing the cash
Give a fuck ‘bout a ex leave that bitch in the past
I remember when I was down bad
Got a ‘hol lotta twenties and fifties and hunnids
I’m finna go hop in Jag
(Chorus: Mykko Montana & PTC Reeko)
I got them racks in, let’s get it
I remember riding round in Honda Civics
I’m in New York with Big, no Diddy
Hat to the back, A-Town fitted
Nigga I just ran them racks up
You know what’s craccin, my nigga it’s up
Don Julio all in my cup
Fucking yo’ bitch got my dick in her throat
Finna go up, up
Lil bitch I’m rockstar lit
That young nigga ran his bucks up
Ain’t stressing ‘bout no bitch
You know I’m bound to fuck the club up
I’m finna pop my shit (yeah, mhmm)
I got them racks in my pocket
Dripping too hard bitch I don’t need a stylist
(Verse 2: Mykko Montana)
Fye on me in my denim jeans
Mykko Montana, Billie Jean
All my niggas, they gone slide for me
I just did a show for 10 G’s
I’m out the country, nigga I’m overseas
Bad bitch, steady running to me
Top off, baby we on the beach
Doing the dash on jet skis
I got them motherfucking rackaids on me
Who wanna play with me?
I keep that motherfucking Glock 9 on me
The K in the backseat
You don’t wanna play with me
I’m the freshest motherfucker that walked in the party
Fucking on this red bitch, that bitch look like Cardi
Don’t make me Offset me a nigga
Takeoff on a nigga
UGK, I’m too trilla
I remember being broke
I couldn’t get it, I tried to have it
All these bitches they was laughing at a nigga, now a nigga really havin’
(Chorus: Mykko Montana & PTC Reeko)
I got them racks in, let’s get it
I remember riding round in Honda Civics
I’m in New York with Big, no Diddy
Hat to the back, A-Town fitted
Nigga I just ran them racks up
You know what’s craccin, my nigga it’s up
Don Julio all in my cup
Fucking yo’ bitch got my dick in her throat
Finna go up, up
Lil bitch I’m rockstar lit
That young nigga ran his bucks up
Ain’t stressing ‘bout no bitch
You know I’m bound to fuck the club up
I’m finna pop my shit (yeah, mhmm)
I got them racks in my pocket
Dripping too hard bitch I don’t need a stylist
