Racks Lyrics

Run up my numbers, we went triple digits

These demons they cappin' these demons they fi-

Demon Killer Gang, you know that we with it

Shooting these demons, they cap they be peeling

Running them racks up, we know we business

You know we in trenches, you know that we get it

Bible Wesson on me, know that we did it

Bible Blicky came with me, its exquisite

Ran up my comas and got me the paper, you know that we get it, we ready

Demon Killer Gang, you know that we stronger, you know how we get it, we petty

No Hanukah Matata, no Pitmen 'Enlada no hu-

Ran up my paper

Ran up my comas

Bible Blicky on me, yeah I'm like Thomas

Feeling presidential, feel like Obama

Yeah I hit em' with tecs, yeah I hit em' with lamas

Demon he getting them shots in his head

Satin texting me I left him on read

Demon they chatting they know that they dead

Telling his business, I think he a fed

Body bleeding, brodie leaking, he red

No weapon form against me, I shall declare it

Look at my whip yeah, you know its McLaren

Demons getting chopped,I feel like a parrot

I feel like a bunny, I'm eating them carrots

And I'm coming up clean when I pull up, appearance

I got that Prada, you know how we coming, you know we getting triple D's

Bible Wesson, man that Bible Blicky man, freak it I got triple B's

Demons talking bout they breaking they chains, meanwhile I'm breaking they leaves

Bible Blicky on my side wherever I go, no it can't leave