This is a song about "Yo stacks"

Yelling "yo look at my money, i got stacks in the bank!"

His wifey fuck with me and really he don't understand

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

They were going out i was making stacks

Every time she catch feelings she go throw away the gloves

Im gettin cash im flippin stacks i got my spatulas

But what if they were in our shoes without their stacks

And dj's play my records cause i make the needles dance

Mic defibrillator give you haters heart attacks in advance

Work the asses off and the owners the one with money stacks

I live the street life, ya heard? guns, money and birds

My racks was really stacks of novels and rap posters

Young peyton don't huddle, still run my play

Im getting stacks of money everyday.

Track every stack, now im back, and rack stacks

Dope sneakers and dope speakers for fly cats