This is a song about "Racks"

I stack racks fat you haters pockets petite.

Fine women love losers, that treat 'em bad and cheap

So i gotta get my point across like a snitch would

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

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

That we’ve been confined to, so the corporate won’t make decisions

Give them a couple racks and watch everybody change

I never judge a murder by weapons, only the rage

Nigga with too much to say, you might make a fool of yourself

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

Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps

All i got is fuckin racks

We den turnt it up now it's at the max

You killing all these jacks?your from the racks