Tyga – Rack City lyrics

Rack, Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack, Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack, Rack, Rack City, bitch.
Mustard on the beat.

Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack City, bitch
Ten, ten, ten twenties on yo titties, bitch.
100 deep, V. I. P
No guest list.
T-T Raww, you don't know who you fuckin' wit.
Got my other bitch
Fuckin' wit my other bitch.
Fuckin' all night
Nigga we ain't celibate.
Nigga say I'm too dope
I ain't sellin' it.
Bar fresher than a mutherfuckin' peppermint.
G-gold letterman
Last king killin' shit.
Y-Young Money, Young Money
Yeah, we gettin' rich.
Got yo grandma on my dick
Haha, girl you know what it is.

Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack City, bitch
Ten, ten, ten twenties and them fifties, bitch.

I'm a mutherfuckin' star (star)
Look at the paint on the car (car)
Too much rim make the ride too hard
Tell that bitch hop out,
Walk the boulevard.

I need my money pronto
Get it in the mornin' like Alonzo, Rondo.
Green got cheese like a nacho.
If you ain't got no ass, bitch wear poncho.
Head honcho, got my seat back.
Niggas starin' at me, don't get bapped.
Got my shirt off, the club too packed.
It's too turnt, goin' up like gas.
Godddamn pull out my rags
Mike, Mike Jackson, nigga, yeah I'm bad.
Rat-tat-tat-tat tatted up in my back
All the hoes love me
You know what it is.

Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack City, bitch
Ten, ten, ten twenties and them fifties, bitch.

Throwin' hundreds, hundreds
Hundreds, hundreds
Throwin' hundreds, hundreds
Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack City, bitch
Hundreds, hundreds
Throwin' hundreds, hundreds
Hundreds, hundreds
Rack City, bitch
Rack, Rack City, bitch.