This is a song about "Racks"

God damn pull out my racks

And all she wants is to dance

Give them a couple racks and watch everybody change

While half my mental belongs in a cage

"holy shit wow look at them gigantic racks my mon!"

Once considered a rogue, i was chilling alone

This what it sound like if i sent my dad letters

My racks was really stacks of novels and rap posters

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

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

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

And when the smoke clears don’t you dare ask who could

Let's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom

Stack a gang of bricks racks on racks get our grind on

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

Hit me up in a couple days, we can try again