"Racks Up" lyrics

I throw the racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-Racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-Racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-Racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra- (Ehh hehn)

Dolce and Gabbana
I don't want wahala
Bought a bag for all the times she took cassava in my manor
And I like the stand up (Heh heh)
Comedy, they talkin' bout some money
They ain't never made these niggas milly, haha (Haha)
I know she like my swagger (Blehh blehh)
She off that Hannah Montana from Panama (Brr brr)
The way I'm in her leg just like a panna
Kaka, your money marga, mine fat like Santa
She used to call me bro, but money turned her Alabama (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Touring overseas, I got foreign bitches on their knees
Tryna ask me "Please", with this money, she would drink my piss (Eurgh)
All these bitches on my dick, you can't tell me shit
I'm fuckin' rich, they're tryna cat my fits, they look like me from Wish
I'm fuckin' lit, legit, I spent a bag on fake Balenci' kicks
I took her Maccies, you took her to Hakka', still couldn't get a kiss, you fuckin' dipshit
While my dick covered in lipstick
She glued to me like Pritt stick
Another new tick on my hit-list

I throw the racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-Racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-Racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-Racks up
And I spent, racks up
Ra-Ra-Ra-