Racks To The Ceiling Lyrics – Lil Pump ft. Tory Lanez

Oh!
Jetski! brrrr Bi*ch!
Oh my God!
Ronny!

Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, oh (Yeah)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give a fu*k how you feeling, oh (Brr)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, oh (Esskeetit)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give a fu*k how you feeling (Oh, oh)

Watch how I blow a million
Dive in the pu*sy, esskeetit, oh (Yeah)
All of my whips came tinted
None of my cars ain't rented, oh, uh (Woah)
Balmain and Celine (Yeah)
Off a molly and a bean, yeah (Okay)

This not Fruit of the Loom
My boxers they say Supreme (Supremе)
She said —? her pu*sy (Huh)
My diamonds they wеt like jacuzzi, yeah (Okay)
I put my thumb in her booty, oh
It just went through her Ksubis, oh (Oh)
I got 10 guns in my house
This shit look like Call of Duty (Bow, bow bow)

Red diamonds on me they ruby
Suck on me don't give me cooties (Oh, damn)
Go from the jets to the Jetski
Your baby mama want sex me, uh (Come here)
She eat me up like spaghetti
My diamonds splashing Baguettes, uh (Wet)
Step on my bi*ch in Guiseppe's
I'm in Ukraine with a semi (Huh, bow)
All my jewelry new security
Dare a nigga try to test me
(Huh, I dare you, oh)

Racks all the way to the ceiling (Yeah)
Racks all the way to the ceiling, oh
Racks all the way to the ceiling (Yeah)
I give no fu*k how you feeling, oh (Brr)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, oh (Esskeetit)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give a fu*k how you feeling (Oh)

She wanna fu*k with Umbrella
But her friend ugly
I told her "Hold up, lil fella"
When they send it, my cash extended
As soon as it's printed right fresh out the teller
I got a old check, hoo

Blowing off dirt brfore
I take it out the cellar
Lil bi*ch calling me rude
Hating all of my views
"bi*ch, you fat as my pockets
You know I'ma tell her
I hit that bi*ch with a wing
Fu*k her in the bathroom
Washing my dick in the sink
If it's a ting, it's a ting
Bobbing and weaving that pu*sy
And doing my thing in the ring
I'm going stupid on Cubans
It's link, after link, after link
I'm doing sour in all of my relationships
I be lying about fling, after fling
After fling, after, hmm

Wearing this Louis
Inside of my closet look just like a warehouse
How many 100 dollar bands
Can I cut the rubber band off and tear out?
Touching way too much cash for me to care about
Still'll come kill a nigga about my payout
These niggas talking hot
I feel like AR with the shot
I let the AR come and air out, woo

Racks all the way to the ceiling (Tory)
Racks all the way to the ceiling, oh (Lil' Tory)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give no fu*k how you feeling, oh (Brr)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, oh (Esskeetit)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give no fu*k how you feeling (Oh)