luffi – too many racks lyrics
[intro]
(too many racks in my wallet to fold)
(uh, i just been makin’ this money my own, huh)
[chorus]
(go, go)
too many racks in my wallet to fold (yeah, yeah)
i just been makin’ this money my own
i just been makin’ this money my lonely (my lonely)
talkin’ that sh+t, but that p+ssy boy phony (phony)
huh, he ain’t never spin on no one (no one, yeah)
less talkin’, bro brought out his big guns (guns, yeah)
less talkin’, lil’ b+tch, i’ma get some (yeah, yeah)
that lil’ choppa on me finna rip some’ (yeah, yeah)
wanna play with my boy, bro, you so dumb
got the [?], shoot a drac’ with a big drum (yeah, yeah)
not discussin’, lil’ b+tch, you is on some’
never gave no f+cks, no, not one (yeah, yeah)
yeah, i know i’m the best in this b+tch (yeah, yeah, yeah)
my lil’ homie sippin’ on tec in this b+tch (yeah, yeah, yeah)
stress ’bout a pack, we ain’t stress ’bout a b+tch (yeah, yeah)
’cause we knock ’em all off for talkin’ that sh+t
’cause we knock ’em off, talkin’ that sh+t, boy, we gettin’ you gone
say he gon’ pull up, what the f+ck you on?
where the f+ck you at? got a .45 bullet lined up to his back (bop, bop)
boy, i’m keepin’ sh+t real, only speak facts (yeah, yeah)
that boy’ll keep talkin’, get turned to a pack (yeah, yeah)
he talk like he ’bout it, we know it’s an act (yeah, yeah)
i’m smokin’ on cookie, mix that with the wax, uh
[verse]
uh, brayden like geekin’, know he buy the perc’, if he feel like it, maybe a xan’
i just keep runnin’ my money up, f+ck what they talkin’ ’bout, b+tch, i’m just making these bands (yeah)
(uh+huh) i got that bape on my body, on me
i’m with lil’ bro and he rockin’ rick owens only
huh, yeah, i got that black on my, black on my body
i got that ice on my wrist, i ain’t talkin’ no tommy
none of my diamonds be fake, all of my sh+t just be flossin’
i hit up lil’ bro and i tell him, “we bossin'”
i hit up your b+tch and i told her to top me
i hit up your gang and i told ’em, “we toppin'”
i hit up your b+tch, i don’t need me a condom
he tryna jump me, i pull up, we dot him
i got that [?] on my body, he tryin’ me
f+ck with the gang, and we pop him, we got him
free shot with the free throw, [?]
yeah, throwin’ shots on me, i’m rocky
[?] b+tch pull up, [?]
[chorus]
(go, go)
too many racks in my wallet to fold (yeah, yeah)
i just been makin’ this money my own
i just been makin’ this money my lonely (my lonely)
talkin’ that sh+t, but that p+ssy boy phony (phony)
huh, he ain’t never spin on no one (no one, yeah)
less talkin’, bro brought out his big guns (guns, yeah)
less talkin’, lil’ b+tch, i’ma get some (yeah, yeah)
that lil’ choppa on me finna rip some’ (yeah, yeah)
wanna play with my boy, bro, you so dumb
got the [?], shoot a drac’ with a big drum (yeah, yeah)
not discussin’, lil’ b+tch, you is on some’
never gave no f+cks, no, not one (yeah, yeah)
yeah, i know i’m the best in this b+tch (yeah, yeah, yeah)
my lil’ homie sippin’ on tec in this b+tch (yeah, yeah, yeah)
stress ’bout a pack, we ain’t stress ’bout a b+tch (yeah, yeah)
’cause we knock ’em all off for talkin’ that sh+t
’cause we knock ’em off, talkin’ that sh+t, boy, we gettin’ you gone
say he gon’ pull up, what the f+ck you on?
where the f+ck you at? got a .45 bullet lined up to his back (bop, bop)
boy, i’m keepin’ sh+t real, only speak facts (yeah, yeah)
that boy’ll keep talkin’, get turned to a pack (yeah, yeah)
he talk like he ’bout it, we know it’s an act (yeah, yeah)
i’m smokin’ on cookie, mix that with the wax, uh
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