Having racks of paper, but i ain't gone complain
100 million dollar nigga, nigga say my name
The irony in that is that i ain't even that, but you put it those pages
Step out the shower pick up my towel, and shut the curtains, holdin in my urges,
Praise god, it’s hard to stay spiritual
He'll floor whores fore he throws in the towel
My racks was really stacks of novels and rap posters
Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years
'cuz i remember poppin' off them chains from bicycle racks,
The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks
At dinner with hov hoping that he pass the baton
Stack a gang of bricks racks on racks get our grind on
Got so much racks on racks i be stacking up on tha shelf
Because it's hard trying to pay the bills when you're by yourself
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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