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What Nyc Sounds Like
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917 Rackz
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Rackz, Rackz, Rackz, Rackz Rackz, Rackz Rackz, Rackz, Rackz Feel like the king of my city, the way I manuever through they hoods Got me a nice little biddie, I gotta improve her 'cause she good F**ked all of her friends, uh, she just a new one in the books Runnin' to these Ms, uh, I just need money, I don't need no friends,- -but if they try to backdoor me for the racks, they get cut off Try to steal my swag, I sold the run off Don't carry cash on me, uh, but I swipe the piece, and that's because of I got a lot of people want me dead, no, I just cannot wait to let that gun off Now, I'm just runnin', duckin' from the feds, now, I just can't do nothin' with the gloves off Uh, now, they tryna' keep up Lost my brother, we gon' tee up I can't help it I cry in the night Tryna' catch a Peter Up with the jets, we gon' fly out the night I be with the creepers, uh, please do not hide in the night, look Shots from the blick, hitting walls to the floor Catch me a shh, he gon' (touch the ground) Brodie won't stop, brodie need more My ooter been fiendin' to dump out the other round Still won't win a grammy, uh, but I'm platinum in the underground Swear that they ain't wanna come around Now, these b*t*hes want another round Rackz, uh I told the bros it's no lettin' up I'ma set us up I took my ooter to training, (Pew, pew, pew) hit his block, we gon' bend it up, hah Ain't no getting up, grrah, grrah Now they ain't forgetting us Rackz, Rackz, Rackz Ooh, he wildin' Won't eat the coochie, and now she ain't smilin' She still give me brain like Lucy, uh I could never cuff a smoochie, she wildin' I been outside, and, I never ever seen a b*t*h that want me in their gossip All the shorties know we stylin' Rackz, VBlock, Rackz, Rackz, Rackz I was 5'11, uh, stand on my racks, now I'm 6 foot 7 Talk about the get back, uh, but I'm sayin' you should get you a weapon Yeah, they know I get racks, uh I could never owe 'em, uh, but I'm steppin' in Owens, uh And, it's Rick for the Denim, facts I got the slyest haters I know they tryna' get us But, we all up in Neiman, Marcus B*t*h, we the demons, and we spark sh*t Designer European, pour the [?] now I'm peein' No peace treaty, no agreements 'Cause you know we start sh*t, grrah Look, shorty, I'm just being honest, I'm going through love, and war Gotta pour up the lean My heart feels sore, but, I'm talkin' to myself, followin' my conscience I told Kay-Kay to up it and flock it, grrah I look at myself in the mirror Respect myself too much to forgive her (Baow) Hot winter, I start shiver I can't walk alone, I'ma call up my hitter Cold Summer, coming soon Full cup, and that drip he gon pour all up in it Yeah that boy poor he ain't spend it Shorty ya boyfriend a broke bum Uh, she really want me, she fiendin' to trap me I told her, "No, you can't have me" I'm with the ooters, nobody attacked me She act sa**y, the second I walk in the spot, she like, "Snatch me, snap me" She told me, that I better treat her holy Everyone want me, and they'll hara** me Rackz, Rackz
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