TRACK STAR
Hop up in the whip I'm headed to the stu
You already know I'm steady in da booth
Got too many mics I don't know which to use
Gotta pick and choose (Yuh, uh)
Spittin' on the Neumann or the AKG
And my vocals so clean better stay 6 feet
Who mix my shit same guy that made this beat
Yea we getting it done gotta pay dees fees (Woah)
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Stacks, stacks, stacks on stacks, yea
Racks, racks, racks on racks
I be spending it to make it back
Yo AkZeNT let's go make a track
Although I'm white I still can rap
I hit the shit and make it slap, hard
Never slack I'm coming with the bars
Never finna finish last call me a track star
Cuz I'm running laps (laps, laps, laps)
And I hit the gas (gas, gas, gas)
Never finish last (last, last, last)
I be going fast (Zoom)
No I don't slow down
I been coming for the crown
Everybody like my sound
I ain't come to mess around now
Everybody looking at me like
Really you be killing a beat, mmm
Bitch I can't be beat
You should go and check my feats
I racked 60 thousand streams
And that's Spotify alone
Bitch I Passed Away but I ain't dying
In the benz ya I been crying
Chillin wit my ride or die and
Now I feel like I am flyin
Superman that ohh
I'm so fly I'm in my zone
They say you the man like woah
Can't stop me I'm on a roll
But they gonna try
They see the guy
And they hate just cuz they jealous
But they don't know why
They feel the way
That they feel or just can't tell us
And they play the song
They feel the vibe
So I'm just really curious
Man why you so damn serious
Like you must be a joke or
Maybe you just delirious
You must not play poker
Cuz that face, it ain't mysterious
No bitch I see straight through the shit
I've had enough, I call your bluff
And I speak from experience
So don't step up to me like you know me cuz bitch you don't
I'm the next up mark my words this white boy finna blow
No I ain't talking snow, No I ain't talking coke
No I ain't blowing smoke this white boy finna fuckin blow
Takin it up all the way to the top
Makin the money but is it a job?
I never work I just do what I want
Get what I want, have it to flaunt
Hop on jet and just go where I want
Fly me to France, have a croissant
Too busy living before I am gone
I'm a sevant (gah damn)
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Stacks, stacks, stacks on stacks
Racks, racks, racks on racks
You already know I'm steady in da booth
Got too many mics I don't know which to use
Gotta pick and choose (Yuh, uh)
Spittin' on the Neumann or the AKG
And my vocals so clean better stay 6 feet
Who mix my shit same guy that made this beat
Yea we getting it done gotta pay dees fees (Woah)
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Stacks, stacks, stacks on stacks, yea
Racks, racks, racks on racks
I be spending it to make it back
Yo AkZeNT let's go make a track
Although I'm white I still can rap
I hit the shit and make it slap, hard
Never slack I'm coming with the bars
Never finna finish last call me a track star
Cuz I'm running laps (laps, laps, laps)
And I hit the gas (gas, gas, gas)
Never finish last (last, last, last)
I be going fast (Zoom)
No I don't slow down
I been coming for the crown
Everybody like my sound
I ain't come to mess around now
Everybody looking at me like
Really you be killing a beat, mmm
Bitch I can't be beat
You should go and check my feats
I racked 60 thousand streams
And that's Spotify alone
Bitch I Passed Away but I ain't dying
In the benz ya I been crying
Chillin wit my ride or die and
Now I feel like I am flyin
Superman that ohh
I'm so fly I'm in my zone
They say you the man like woah
Can't stop me I'm on a roll
But they gonna try
They see the guy
And they hate just cuz they jealous
But they don't know why
They feel the way
That they feel or just can't tell us
And they play the song
They feel the vibe
So I'm just really curious
Man why you so damn serious
Like you must be a joke or
Maybe you just delirious
You must not play poker
Cuz that face, it ain't mysterious
No bitch I see straight through the shit
I've had enough, I call your bluff
And I speak from experience
So don't step up to me like you know me cuz bitch you don't
I'm the next up mark my words this white boy finna blow
No I ain't talking snow, No I ain't talking coke
No I ain't blowing smoke this white boy finna fuckin blow
Takin it up all the way to the top
Makin the money but is it a job?
I never work I just do what I want
Get what I want, have it to flaunt
Hop on jet and just go where I want
Fly me to France, have a croissant
Too busy living before I am gone
I'm a sevant (gah damn)
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Stacks, stacks, stacks, stacks
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Stacks, stacks, stacks on stacks
Racks, racks, racks on racks
Credits
Writer(s): Luis Juarez Pineda, Lance Gasher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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