This is a song about "Make stacks"

Crap rappers wear gold chains and hold stacks

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

I got sexy ladies all over the floor

When i run out of stacks i go and get some more

Stacks on deck, bitch we stackin money to the ceiling

You niggas is anything, my bitches get everything

Baby told me that she never memorized a verse

My racks was really stacks of novels and rap posters

Cash stacks, yep that's what i'm all about

Shake your hair like them track ain't coming out

They were going out i was making stacks

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

When i cock the beam back, i'm aiming for supreme hats

Work the asses off and the owners the one with money stacks

How i'm like bobby deniro, joe pesc and them cats

But what if they were in our shoes without their stacks