Raining Racks

(Hoes would lovelife)
Woah, woah (Tracy, Tracy)
Woah, woah, woah (Tracy)
These hoes is for everyone
(Yeah)
(We got a whole lot of drip)
These hoes is for everyone, okay
(Cash Molly)
Yeah, let's go, let's go

Okay, these hoes is for everyone
Don't make a mistake tryna marry one (Ain't tryna marry one)
Too much water, I escape from the aquarium
Yeah, he bleed just like I bleed, so I ain't scared of him
I be rockin' Dior when I take out the trash (When I take out the trash)
I just walked out of Louis Vuitton, I need help carrying all of these bags (Okay)
I'ma let you know the forecast (Okay)
It's my motherfucking season and it's raining racks

And niggas wanna be friends now
Back in the day, tried to carry me (Yeah)
Coolin' with a bad bitch now
She throwing it back on the balcony (Woah)
Big money with a big house
Until you got that, don't be at-ing me (Don't be at-ing me)
Yeah, boy, you living at your bitch house
Depending on her, that's a tragedy
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm smokin' this dope, I'm zooted (I'm zooted, I'm zooted)
Yeah, she walking around in my crib with no clothes
I'm starting to think she a nudist (Starting to think she a nudist)
Feel like Juice WRLD, okay
All of my dreams are lucid
Push to start, yeah, the keys are useless
When I jump on the beat, I go stupid
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I'm just tryna put on for my city
If it was my choice, all my dead friends would be with me (No cap)
Gotta keep my head on straight (My head straight)
And I created my own wave

Hold up, I'ma let the beat talk

Okay, these hoes is for everyone
Don't make a mistake tryna marry one (Ain't tryna marry one)
Too much water, I escape from the aquarium (Let's go, let's go)
Yeah, he bleed just like I bleed, so I ain't scared of him
I be rockin' Dior when I take out the trash (When I take out the trash)
I just walked out of Louis Vuitton, I need help carrying all of these bags (Okay)
I'ma let you know the forecast (Okay)
It's my motherfucking season and it's raining racks

Tatted on my body like a cholo, yeah
Six hundred for my shoes and, yeah, they Yohji Yamamoto, yeah
She hop on the dick and then she stumble, bend it slow-mo, yeah
My life is a movie and your life is a photo
Why this lil' nigga jockin' swag?
I'm not tryna stay in the mix, I'm tryna stay inside my bag, yeah
All that shit you talking need to stay inside your ass
Put some shooters on his noggin, leave him stained up like some glass

It's raining racks
Woah, woah, woah, woah, it's raining racks
Yeah, yeah, it's raining racks
Woah, it's raining racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Raining racks