This is a song about "30 racks"

And wrote this from 4:25 to 4:30, hah

Is written in our souls, africa

'cuz i remember poppin' off them chains from bicycle racks,

It’s a party in my pants and you invited with all that dance

It is not hard, swear to god. these niggas ain't real at all

When i get that 10 racks nigga we gone hit the mall

Stealin' phones to call home but the line is off the hook

I came ova yo house, yo momma got racks what's good?

Go to hell, i mean that, burn you like green backs

You killing all these jacks?your from the racks

It leaves your heart with contusions and racks your brain with delusions

Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips

You finally got right? no longer a black sheep

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

I never judge a murder by weapons, only the rage

Give them a couple racks and watch everybody change