Artist: YC f/ Future Album: Racks single Song: Racks Typed by: ballakapimpjuice@msn.com, kirenamloh@msn.com (YC!) [Intro: 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 [Chorus: YC] Got campaign goin so strong Gettin brain while I'm talkin on the phone Spend money when ya money gets long Real street nigga, 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) Nigga ain't even tryna hold baaaack [YC] Got a car outta my garage (So many cars!) Got a condo down in the stars (Swag!) I'm geeked up off them bars Got a car, I ain't even gotta park (Park itself) No keys. push button start (SKERT!) She ain't a dime I won't get hard Got hoes that need a green card Say I'm a dog but I don't even gotta bark {*woof*} Got 'em bitin this swag like sharks One hit, I'ma knock it out the park Trap be 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 re-rock, ain't no cling (Remix!) Six-two hundred for a nin' (the 'nina) Then fuck it all up on jeans I'm a True Religion fiend Got bands in the pockets of my jeans (Where dey at?) Need a kickstand way I lean (F'real!) Promethazine fiend Stamped on Sprite and lean [Chorus] [Future] No choice by force I sport, then go and cop some ice Designer on my mojo, I live in the spotlight Real street nigga ain't no flaw, young Future gotta keep that raw That swag I gave you niggaz, I'ma need me a round of 'plause (Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!) Bravo, Bravo, Bravo! Got a hundred thousand dollars worth of clothes I'm froze I'm froze I'm cold I keep me a big bank roll, I ain't trickin off on these hoes These hoes bringin me they soul, I will never sell my soul Cashed out on all the cars, these foreign foreign broads Got a nigga livin in the stars, I'm on my way to Mars Got Keisha, Pam, and Nicki, they all wanna do a +Minaj+ Ay one freeband freeband, we ain't ever got a goddamn flauge [Chorus] [YC] Y'all know I keep them racks I stay countin them stacks Ya girl won't leave me 'lone Wanna fuck, 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 relaaax I drank so much that lean Had to wake up on a bean Got racks off in my jeans Man it bustin out the seams Got kush all in my lungs Get high like Cheech and Chong Eight hundred a zone I ain't blowin unless it stroooong Gettin head on my iPhone Catch mine and then I'm gone The girl won't leave me 'lon I can not take her hoooome I'm gone on them bars Bitch I'm not a star I'm driving foriegn cars Strapped up no bodyguaaaaards [Chorus]