This is a song about "Money racks nigga"

It's a shameso much pressure on my brain

Having racks of paper, but i ain't gone complain

All i got is fuckin racks

Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps

Music is money, money isn't music

All my new bitches seem to get old real quick

From the passion, ya hands reaching for the sheets to grab

Can't even rhyme without nigga--money and all that

And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial’s lovely

Nigga i get it how i live and i live for money

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Got so much racks on racks i be stacking up on tha shelf

You an amateur, they wanna pro to call

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

Man it’s the killer tracks

God damn pull out my racks