YC - Racks (Wiz Khailfa Remix) lyrics

[Intro: YC] (YC!) Whatchu 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 [Hook: YC] Got campaign goin' so strong, gettin' brain while I'm talkin on the phone Spend money when ya money gets long, real street n***a, 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 (Whatchu 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), n***a ain't even tryna hold baaaack [YC] Got a car lot in my garage, got a condo down in the stars I'm geaked up off them bars, got a car I don't even gotta park No keys push bu*ton start, she ain't a dime I won't get hard Got hoes that need a green card, say I'm a dawg but I don't even gotta bark Got swag that bite like sharks, one hit I'mma knock it out the park Trap beatin' so goddamn hard, got kush, got lean, got barre Got remix hard as scale, got bricks don't need no scale I'm plugged in with the mail, I'm part of the cartel Got rerock ain't no cling, 6 two hundred for a nin Then f** it all up on jeans, I'mma true religion fiend Got bands in the pockets of my jeans, need a kickstand way I lean Promethazine fiend, stamped on sprite and lean [Hook] [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, f** takin flight, I blast off n***as 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, n***a 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 n***as get bad They said, "f** a young n***a! f** a young n***a!" I know it's some girls in the crowd right now who wanna f** a young n***a - yeah! I roll one and roll another one bigger n***as thinkin they sick, well, I'm sicker I'mma smoke, my weed and I'ma drink, my liquor Better make, sure you f** ya girl right 'fore I dick her, down [Hook] [YC] Y'all know I keep them racks, I stay counting them stacks Ya girl won't leave me lone, wanna f** now she attaaaached Flow hot don't need no match, sell work don't pay no tax I'm turnt up to the max, don't even know how to relaaaax I drank so much that lean, had to wake up on a bean Racks all in my jeans, man bustin' out the seeeeams Got kush all in my lungs, get high like Cheech and Chong 800 a zone I ain't blowin' unless it stroooong Catch hell on my iPhone, catch mine and then I'm gone The girl won't leave, I can not take her hoooome I'm gone on them bars, b**h I'm not a star I'm driving foreign cars, strapped up no bodyguaaaards [Hook] [Outro: YC] (YC!) Racks on racks on racks Racks on racks on racks, racks on racks on raaacks Racks on racks on racks Racks on racks on racks, racks on racks on raaacks