Lyrics

Ooh (Jetski, brr) Bitch (Oh my God, Ronny) Racks all the way to the ceilin' Racks all the way to the ceilin', ooh (yeah) Racks all the way to the ceilin' I give a fuck how you feelin', ooh (brr) Racks all the way to the ceilin' Racks all the way to the ceilin', ooh (esskeetit) Racks all the way to the ceilin' I give a fuck how you feelin', ooh (ooh) Watch how I blow through a million Dive in the pussy, esskeetit, ooh (yeah) All of my whips came tinted None of my cars ain't rented, ooh (whoa), uh Balmain and Celine (yeah), off a molly and a bean, yeah (okay) This not Fruit of the Loom, my boxers, they say, "Supreme" (Supreme) She said, "Tussie, not pussy" (huh?), my diamonds, they wet like jacuzzi, yeah (okay) I put my thumb in her booty, ooh, it just went through her Ksubis, ooh (ooh) I got ten guns at my house, this shit look like Call of Duty (baow, baow-baow) Red diamonds on me, they ruby, suck on me, don't give me cooties, uh (ooh, damn) Go from the jets to the jet-ski, your baby mama wan' sex me, umf (come here) She eat me up like spaghetti, my diamonds splashin', Baguettes, uh (uh, wet) Step on my bitch in Giuseppes, I'm in Ukraine with a semi (huh? Baow) All my jewelry, no security, dare a nigga try to test me (huh? I dare you) (ooh) Racks all the way to the ceilin' (yeah) Racks all the way to the ceilin', ooh Racks all the way to the ceilin' (yeah) I give a fuck how you feelin', ooh (brr) Racks all the way to the ceilin' Racks all the way to the ceilin', ooh (esskeetit) Racks all the way to the ceilin' I give a fuck how you feelin', ooh She wanna fuck with Umbrella But her friend ugly, I told her, "Hold up, lil' fella" Windex scented, my cash extended As soon as it's printed right fresh out, the teller I got a old check, whew, blowin' off dirt 'fore I take it out the cellar Lil' bitch callin' me rude, hatin' all of my views "Bitch, you fat as my pockets", you know I'ma tell her I hit that bitch with a wink Fuck her in the bathroom, washin' my dick in the sink If it's a ting, it's a ting Bobbin' and weavin' that pussy and doin' my thing in the ring I'm goin' stupid on Cubans, it's link after link, after link I'm doin' sour in all of my relationships I be lyin' 'bout fling after fling-after fling after f- Wearin' this Louis, inside of my closet look just like a warehouse How many hundred-dollar bands and booby can I cut the rubber band off and tear out? Touchin' way too much cash for me to care 'bout Still'll come kill a nigga 'bout my payout These niggas talkin' hot, I feel like AI with the shot I let the AR come and air out, woo Racks all the way to the ceilin' (Tory) Racks all the way to the ceilin', ooh (Lil Tory) Racks all the way to the ceilin' I give a fuck how you feelin', ooh (ooh) (brr) Racks all the way to the ceilin' Racks all the way to the ceilin', ooh (esskeetit) Racks all the way to the ceilin' I give a fuck how you feelin' (ooh)
Writer(s): Ronald Spence, Gazzy Garcia Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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