Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Run Up Them Racks, artist - Retch. Album song Still Up, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.12.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Fastmoney
Song language: English
Run Up Them Racks |
Woah, huh, run up them racks |
Can’t fumble the set, no, huh |
I got to get it, I’m running them digits |
Lil' bitches can play with that check, no |
I pull up, no simpin, like deal with the business |
Gucci my tennis, I thumb through them Benjis |
Lil' bitch I get bread — admit it — woah |
Louie belt holdin' my ratchets |
Pleasant, she checkin' my business, yeah, yeah |
Playin' ‘em round like a dentist |
Don’t get around until I’m finished, yeah, yeah |
We used to trap in them cities |
Servin' ‘em g’s and I’m spendin' |
Now we pull up in them Benzes |
Foreigns and shit, it’s expensive |
See RetcH done did it, whoa |
Made a plate down a metal bar |
For a half of John, nigga can it duck |
Foreign thotty yeah she bad as fuck |
I won’t fuck her ‘cause she bad as fuck |
Burnin' pussy I can pass it, done |
Purple drink why I can’t pass it up |
I got back to expeditions, with no expectations |
In the situations, yeah |
I would like some fornication, how that be for conversation |
I can’t fuck her cause she basic, I might fuck her make her famous |
I be stylin' in the latest |
Louie, Fendi, Ferragamo |
Diamond give her |
On point wherever I go |
Shooter with me — he gonna follow, yeah, yeah |
If you don’t play with that heat |
Don’t get no play in these streets, yeah, yeah |
We don’t do with the feet |
Nigga we playin' for keeps, gang, gang |
I had to turn to a beast |
Locked in the «stu» for some weeks |
right in my reach |
Bitch, you was all on my phone |
But I’m on a roll like its beef, no, whoa, whoa, ha |
Woah, huh, run up them racks |
Can’t fumble the set, no, huh |
I got to get it, I’m running them digits |
Lil' bitches can play with that check, no |
I pull up, no simpin, like deal with the business |
Gucci my tennis, I thumb through them Benjis |
Lil' bitch I get bread — admit it — woah |
Young nigga play with them racks |
I got them racks it’s a fact, yeah, yeah |
I got some |
Some lil' thots in the back, yeah yeah |
If you run off with that pack |
Just know you cannot come back, yeah, yeah |
I’m sippin' red in the back |
My lil' bitch, she a brat, whoa, whoa |
How he got dough for that liberty bitch |
Man I swear I won’t fuck her again |
I told her come over, she told me |
«She just wanna watch while I fuck on a friend» |
I fucked up and poured up this drink |
And bouncin', I swear it won’t end |
Can’t be no baller If you don’t do right for your family |
Swear she so better than this time I fuck her |
I’m gonna fuck her and never again |
I fly across the world, them people they see me |
They love me, they takin' my pic |
These bitches is open, they just like a magazine |
Browsing and takin my pick |
I told them we all could be ballin' in millions |
If nigga just stick to the script, huh |
Woah, huh, run up them racks |
Can’t fumble the set, no, huh |
I got to get it, I’m running them digits |
Lil' bitches can play with that check, no |
I pull up, no simpin, like deal with the business |
Gucci my tennis, I thumb through them Benjis |
Lil' bitch I get bread — admit it — woah |