lirik lagu ptc reeko – rockstar lit
i got them racks in, let’s get it
i remember riding round in honda civics, yeah
let’s go
yeah
yeah, yeah
(chorus: mykko montana & ptc reeko)
i got them racks in, let’s get it
i remember riding round in honda civics
i’m in new york with big, no diddy
hat to the back, a-town fitted
n-gga i just ran them racks up
you know what’s craccin, my n-gga it’s up
don julio all in my cup
f-cking yo’ b-tch got my d-ck in her throat
finna go up, up
lil b-tch i’m rockstar lit
that young n-gga ran his bucks up
ain’t stressing ‘bout no b-tch
you know i’m bound to f-ck the club up
i’m finna pop my sh-t (yeah, mhmm)
i got them racks in my pocket
dripping too hard b-tch i don’t need a stylist
(verse 1: ptc reeko)
papertrail circle the gang, we the posse
watch them young n-ggas take off like a rocket
i’ll beat a n-gga -ss like rocky
dripping too hard, b-tch i don’t need a stylist
i got me a check just to flood out my watches
(what you know about the bricks, lil n-gga?)
we don’t do dissing on twitter
i came out the jungle with apes and gorillas
they bound to come get you
watch how you move when you with a k!ller
i got ‘bout like 2 b-tches in a sprinter
free all my dawgs out that f-cking kennel
i slide on a hot block in the winter
push the foreign like a rental
cut off my hands, i ain’t ever gone feel ‘em
cut off they legs, throw it in the river
i’ll get a rap n-gga ate for dinner
dripping in black and gold like the steelers
ain’t beefing ‘bout nat hoes, i’ma drill ‘em
i remember i ain’t have no skrilla
now i’m running laps, b-tch i’m chasing the cash
give a f-ck ‘bout a ex leave that b-tch in the past
i remember when i was down bad
got a ‘hol lotta twenties and fifties and hunnids
i’m finna go hop in jag
(chorus: mykko montana & ptc reeko)
i got them racks in, let’s get it
i remember riding round in honda civics
i’m in new york with big, no diddy
hat to the back, a-town fitted
n-gga i just ran them racks up
you know what’s craccin, my n-gga it’s up
don julio all in my cup
f-cking yo’ b-tch got my d-ck in her throat
finna go up, up
lil b-tch i’m rockstar lit
that young n-gga ran his bucks up
ain’t stressing ‘bout no b-tch
you know i’m bound to f-ck the club up
i’m finna pop my sh-t (yeah, mhmm)
i got them racks in my pocket
dripping too hard b-tch i don’t need a stylist
(verse 2: mykko montana)
fye on me in my denim jeans
mykko montana, billie jean
all my n-ggas, they gone slide for me
i just did a show for 10 g’s
i’m out the country, n-gga i’m overseas
bad b-tch, steady running to me
top off, baby we on the beach
doing the dash on jet skis
i got them motherf-cking rackaids on me
who wanna play with me?
i keep that motherf-cking glock 9 on me
the k in the backseat
you don’t wanna play with me
i’m the freshest motherf-cker that walked in the party
f-cking on this red b-tch, that b-tch look like cardi
don’t make me offset me a n-gga
takeoff on a n-gga
ugk, i’m too trilla
i remember being broke
i couldn’t get it, i tried to have it
all these b-tches they was laughing at a n-gga, now a n-gga really havin’
(chorus: mykko montana & ptc reeko)
i got them racks in, let’s get it
i remember riding round in honda civics
i’m in new york with big, no diddy
hat to the back, a-town fitted
n-gga i just ran them racks up
you know what’s craccin, my n-gga it’s up
don julio all in my cup
f-cking yo’ b-tch got my d-ck in her throat
finna go up, up
lil b-tch i’m rockstar lit
that young n-gga ran his bucks up
ain’t stressing ‘bout no b-tch
you know i’m bound to f-ck the club up
i’m finna pop my sh-t (yeah, mhmm)
i got them racks in my pocket
dripping too hard b-tch i don’t need a stylist
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