Run Up Them Racks - Retch

Woah, huh, run up them racks

Can’t fumble the set, no, huh

I got to get it, I’m running them digits

Lil' bitches can play with that check, no

I pull up, no simpin, like deal with the business

Gucci my tennis, I thumb through them Benjis

Lil' bitch I get bread — admit it — woah

Louie belt holdin' my ratchets

Pleasant, she checkin' my business, yeah, yeah

Playin' ‘em round like a dentist

Don’t get around until I’m finished, yeah, yeah

We used to trap in them cities

Servin' ‘em g’s and I’m spendin'

Now we pull up in them Benzes

Foreigns and shit, it’s expensive

See RetcH done did it, whoa

Made a plate down a metal bar

For a half of John, nigga can it duck

Foreign thotty yeah she bad as fuck

I won’t fuck her ‘cause she bad as fuck

Burnin' pussy I can pass it, done

Purple drink why I can’t pass it up

I got back to expeditions, with no expectations

In the situations, yeah

I would like some fornication, how that be for conversation

I can’t fuck her cause she basic, I might fuck her make her famous

I be stylin' in the latest

Louie, Fendi, Ferragamo

Diamond give her

On point wherever I go

Shooter with me — he gonna follow, yeah, yeah

If you don’t play with that heat

Don’t get no play in these streets, yeah, yeah

We don’t do with the feet

Nigga we playin' for keeps, gang, gang

I had to turn to a beast

Locked in the «stu» for some weeks

right in my reach

Bitch, you was all on my phone

But I’m on a roll like its beef, no, whoa, whoa, ha

Woah, huh, run up them racks

Can’t fumble the set, no, huh

I got to get it, I’m running them digits

Lil' bitches can play with that check, no

I pull up, no simpin, like deal with the business

Gucci my tennis, I thumb through them Benjis

Lil' bitch I get bread — admit it — woah

Young nigga play with them racks

I got them racks it’s a fact, yeah, yeah

I got some

Some lil' thots in the back, yeah yeah

If you run off with that pack

Just know you cannot come back, yeah, yeah

I’m sippin' red in the back

My lil' bitch, she a brat, whoa, whoa

How he got dough for that liberty bitch

Man I swear I won’t fuck her again

I told her come over, she told me

«She just wanna watch while I fuck on a friend»

I fucked up and poured up this drink

And bouncin', I swear it won’t end

Can’t be no baller If you don’t do right for your family

Swear she so better than this time I fuck her

I’m gonna fuck her and never again

I fly across the world, them people they see me

They love me, they takin' my pic

These bitches is open, they just like a magazine

Browsing and takin my pick

I told them we all could be ballin' in millions

If nigga just stick to the script, huh

Woah, huh, run up them racks

Can’t fumble the set, no, huh

I got to get it, I’m running them digits

Lil' bitches can play with that check, no

I pull up, no simpin, like deal with the business

Gucci my tennis, I thumb through them Benjis

Lil' bitch I get bread — admit it — woah