Artist: Lil Reese f/ Waka Flocka Flame, Wale Album: Supa Savage (Mixtape) Song: No Lackin, Money Stackin Typed by: AZ Lyrics [Intro] Got all these bands this money I'm stackin' My Squad, Squad. Turn up Got all these bands this money I'm stackin 300 [Chorus] Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin [Verse 1: Lil Reese] Niggaz playing games, I ain't for none what's crackin? And I'm out here in the field so it's team no lackin I'm off the shits, I won't stop I'm crackin Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin Ain't playing games, we ain't for none what's crackin? We sliding doors back and young niggaz clappin Racing to the money I'm speeding like a rabbit Got a lot of money try to take what I'm having You get clapped up and that's faster than a rabbit On 64th, bitch we what's happening Try to come through, you get clapped with the Mac 300 shit bitch I been a savage [Chorus] [Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame] He reach for it that's a dead body Elmer Fudd, double barrel shotty My neck rocky and I'm off a molly My bitch bad with a Buffie body Young niggaz shoot at anybody All these bands got a nigga cocky Strapped in the club motherfucker Lil Reese get him! Man down, let the piece hit him During broad day and police with him Yellow tape, let the streets get him Chalk him out, white sheet did him Bow bow, I'm bussin' at him I'm balling hard, no NBA My bitch a diamond, Lisa Raye Spend 20k at least a day, Do it weekends nigga I do it everyday She with me she go everyway Count this money til' my fingers hurt When I hit the pussy I bet she squirt Selling dope, we ain't got to work Real nigga, no tight shirt My gun don't work, I got a knife You disrespect, I'm doing life [Chorus] [Verse 3: Wale] Lot of paper bring a lot of haters, capeesh? And the more you make a be the more you make, it ain't sweet But I do me (fasho!) Do I lose sleep? (hell no!) If I fall down, before they start counting I'm back on my feet This that flyraq meet chiraq, no contest with that flow All of my heads out, with young dreadlocks, couple real niggaz from the 'go Like I said in one song Life is lame with no goals Barely rap about dope, whenever I don't you niggaz ignore Chop be cooking that crack, and talking hard rock, and talking that snow Naw, Chop a send me that track, I send that shit back and back in that hearse Chop ain't something I know, ain't something I did just keeping it real As a matter of fact, you never moved crack But knowing ya'll rappers a probably throw a brick, bitch [Chorus]