Racks Up

I got a way with the money, now don't you think this shit funny
I gotta keep it like honey, you know I drip like Dasani
We go together like they already knew us
Whatcha sippin on pouring up two cups

Oh shawty, want you call me
Be my, Barbie
Want you, shawty
Ride around town we can get naughty

You can catch me in the driver seat
With my love sitting right beside me
We ain't got no plans, ain't got nowhere to go
You up in loving hands, and I'll never let you go
Aye

We all bout a paycheck
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh
All bout a paycheck
All bout a

Bitch I'm bout a paycheck
I'm in the matrix
Sometimes when I double my fucking cup, I don't know what to say next
Stacking my paper and smoking exotic, lil baby have safe sex
Beating this beat up yeah round for round
They really mad cause they hearing sound, yeah yeah

Oh you know nothing bout me, gotta stay on my feet
Staying true to myself, cause people gone hate, they think what they think
My racks go NASA, I'm on Pluto with a Rolex and a Mink
You can see these diamonds dancing on my teeth
Oh

Fill my pockets with my bands, let me re-up
All this gold round me like I came from Egypt
All these haters talking crazy, they just saying stuff
Hit from the back cause that bitch like it rough
Bitch imma big dawg ain't no pup

Imma show out when my bands up
Molly, Percs, and Xans, she do it sloppy with no hands yeah

Bitch I'm bout a paycheck
I'm in the matrix
Sometimes when I double my fucking cup, I don't know what to say next
Stacking my paper and smoking exotic, lil baby have safe sex, yeah
Beating this beat up yeah round for round
They really mad cause they hearing sound, yeah yeah

Round
Round, yeah yeah
Round
Round, yeah yeah



Credits
Writer(s): Marcos Dotson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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