Terrance Escobar - Rackz And The Swagg (feat. MILANEZIE & CASHCACHE!)

Shawty too thick, bitch I don't gotta brag
That boy pockets on skimp, bitch, he don't got a bag
I get high as a bitch, and walk in with the swag
Bitch, and I still got jet lag
I'm serving these zip's, nigga, straight out the trap
I geek off the perc, just to fuckin' relax
I'm in it for practice, I'm in it for racks
He say he got racks
He just makin' me laugh
This bitch, that i'm with let me hit from the back
This bitch on my dick, no, you won't get her back
I drip in that Rick, bitch, I came in all black
You can't play with this shit
Yeah, I'm takin' your bitch
I'm not bringing her back

Let's go
You goin' out bad, I'm not bringing' her back
They want me to crash, but I keep it on track
You lovin' that thot, but she really some trash
Astronaut high, bitch, I took the good batch
Too geeked in the sky, bitch, I don't wanna match
You finna die, trynna play with the bag
Let that boy try, I'ma empty the mag
She really like to use cash
She stuck like some glue, she stuck like a rash
I just gave her to you, left that hoe in the past
No, he don't got a clue how to get with the swag
New hundreds, they blue, they get put in a stash
All this trap money new, I just ran up a sack
I slide out in that coupe, with that digital dash

I'm having the drip with the racks, and the swag
My bitch got the lips, and the hips, with the ass
Let's go
Shawty too thick, bitch I don't gotta brag
That boy pockets on skimp, bitch, he don't got a bag
I get high as a bitch, and walk in with the swag
Bitch, and I still got jet lag
I'm serving these zip's, nigga, straight out the trap
I geek off the perc, just to fuckin' relax
I'm in it for practice, I'm in it for racks
He say he got racks
He just makin' me laugh
This bitch, that i'm with let me hit from the back
This bitch on my dick, no, you won't get her back
I drip in that Rick, bitch, I came in all black
You can't play with this shit
Yeah, I'm takin' your bitch
I'm not bringing her back

And, I just served you a pack
I'm so athletic, I ran up a bag
I'm the connect bitch, I get to that cash
They show me respect, I get a check
You gettin' checked
I cannot flex
That bitch gave me neck
I can't send you a text
Cause' i'm counting up bands
That boy say he up next, but he comin' in last
Undercover, I put Rick on my bag
You a undercover, why you hiding your badge
I'm a motherfucker, I just might be your dad
And that broke shit, I cannot entertain
I get throat quick, from your motherfucking main
I smoke dope, bitch, and it came from L.A
I blow potent, you can tell by the strain

Shawty too thick, bitch I don't gotta brag
That boy pockets on skimp, bitch, he don't got a bag
I get high as a bitch, and walk in with the swag
Bitch, and I still got jet lag
I'm serving these zip's, nigga, straight out the trap
I geek off the perc, just to fuckin' relax
I'm in it for practice, I'm in it for racks
He say he got racks
He just makin' me laugh
This bitch, that i'm with let me hit from the back
This bitch on my dick, no, you won't get her back
I drip in that Rick, bitch, I came in all black
You can't play with this shit
Yeah, I'm takin' your bitch
I'm not bringing her back

Written by:
Terrance Jennings ii

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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