This is a song about "Racks on racks"

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

It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

When thugs crynow i lay me down to sleep

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

But i don’t knock you i just blame it on your old head, rats

100 percent on everything and on my team

Got a pocket full of cream, my moccasin's clean

As: can’t wait to pork your mom

Man it goes on and on

Living out of bags

God damn pull out my racks

While half my mental belongs in a cage

Give them a couple racks and watch everybody change

Your on fire.. your on fire

Something worth dying for