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lirik lagu ak 5ifty4our - racks on the table!

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[verse 1: ak 5ifty4our]
racks in my bag, yeah, racks on the table
we pullin’ up, yeah, this ain’t a game, this is not fable
i had to pull up with the glock, now i’m stable
we gettin’ big money, yeah, yementertainment the label
hoppin’ on that motherf~ckin’ jet, then we fly
we slidin’ on your gang, yeah, f~ck your guys
hit ’em with the fire, send ’em to the f~ckin’ sky
i got your main b~tch on my motherf~ckin’ side

[verse 2: yxngxpablo]
racks got like twenty bands on the table
wock’, b~tch, you know i’m sippin on that maple
slumped, i only be smoking on exotic sh~t
i stay out the way, i ain’t with the toxic sh~t
robbеd a n~gga, told that p~ssy run his pockets, b~tch
used to have a g~shock, buss~down on my wrist
now i’m usеd to livin’ fast and i don’t wanna quit
and lil’ brodie in that ‘cat so ain’t no catchin’ him
i might blast me a n~gga, so pass me the trigger
glock 19 with a beam, you know i ain’t missin
got my d~ck all in her spleen, she turnin’ and twistin’
said she want a relationship told her, “stop trippin’,”
i don’t do the love sh~t no more with these ghetto b~tches
lately, i been in my zone, these n~ggas still b~tchin’
i don’t know what they be on, but they need to quit it
stop d~ck ridin’ y’all n~ggas is really some b~tches
[verse 3: ywd steph]
racks on the counter, i got racks on the table
love is so dysfunctional, i don’t wanna date you
i got the guap’, i got me them bands
bad lil’ b~tch wanna f~ck, we ain’t friends
talkin’ my sh~t, finna do my dance
fell in love, put her ass in a trance, all i love is benjamins
them benjamins, f~ck her and all her friends
talkin’, brodie’ll blam, revenge his soul like oh d~mn
in love with the bands, in love with the mullah
these n~ggas lil’ brodie might shoot ya
he said he wanna problem with me, bust his medulla
walkin’ on sh~t, feel like a martian
gang, gang, b~tch, i feel like i’m spartan
takin’ off, lil’ b~tch, i’m an artist
racks on the table, racks in the bank
lovin’ that b~tch, i just love her brain
i just love her brain, i just love her brain

[verse 4: ak 5ifty4our]
pull up with your b~tch back open
hittin’ that b~tch, high as f~ck, never sober
slidin’ on your whole gang, you thought it was over
that muhf~cker’ slimey as h~ll, think he some yogurt
pull up with that glock, yeah, that b~tch got a c~ck, yeah
pull up with all the shots, yeah, hit a b~tch with the dot, yeah
i keep all of my guns c~cked, yeah, don’t f~ck with me, you get shot, yeah
i put all of them in a box, yeah, they gonna catch all the shots, yeah


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