This is a song about "Racks"

I grabbed the ak, my homie took the 12 gauge

Give them a couple racks and watch everybody change

Now if you give us a chance

All i got is fuckin racks

Lookin back in my yearbook, all the years took

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

But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow

And, niggas cashing out racks like im hitting the lotto

For setting up traps

God damn pull out my racks

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

My nigga o that's like my bro without the same damn mom

Your bitch fuck us up: every nigga that she meet

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

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

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips