[Intro: Tyga & Aasim]
Boss
Aasim
Rack rack city, bitch (Social Club)
Rack rack rack city, bitch (DJ Far, ugh)
Rack, rack rack rack city, bitch (Yeah)
Mustard on the beat
[Verse 1: Tyga & Aasim]
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Ten, ten, ten, twenty on yo' titties, bitch
Hundred deep VIP, no guest list (Uh)
T-T-Raw, you don't know who you fuckin with
[Verse 2: Aasim]
Be careful on my hands, they slidin' your panties off
Careful-careful on my hands, they slidin' your panties off
Careful-careful on my hands, they slidin' your panties off
Be careful on my dick, he got his own train of thought
Baby, I'm just a freak and I'm ready at all costs
Come up to your job and fuck you in front of your boss
My tongue is a world champ, it never took a loss
So if you ready to win, I'm ready-dy to-to get-get you off
[Rewind]
[Interlude: Female Voice & Male Voice]
Remix! (Uh, yeah)
[Verse 2: Aasim]
Careful on my hands, they slidin' your panties off
Be careful on my dick, he got his own train of thought
Baby, I'm just a freak and I'm ready at all costs
Come up to your job and fuck you in front of your boss
My tongue is a world champ, it never took a loss
So if you ready to win, I'm ready to get you off
Ooh, that boy kinda nasty
So anything obscene you should never put it past me
Rack city, bitch, cock back a pretty bitch
Make you suck me off then bust all over your titties, bitch
I ain't go time to kick it with a giddy bitch
Leave your happy ass stuck and left rack city, bitch
Two bullet wounds, one box cutter scar
You ain't see me 'cause I pulled up in my brother's car
Last week, I was in my baby mother car
Make your booty pop while I'm fuckin' with your cookie jar
[Verse 3: Tyga]
I'm a muthafuckin' 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 morning like Alonzo
Rondo, green got cheese like a nacho
If you don't got no ass, bitch, wear a poncho
Head honcho got my seat back
Nigga staring at me, don't get bapped
Got my shirt off, the club too packed
It's too turnt going up like gas
Goddamn, pulled out my rags
Mike, Mike Jackson, nigga yeah I'm bad
Rat-tat-tat-tat, tatted up on my back
All the hoes love me, you know what it is
[Chorus: Tyga]
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Ten, ten, ten, twenties and them fifties, bitch
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Rack city, bitch, rack rack city, bitch
Ten, ten, ten, twenties and them fifties, bitch
[Outro: Tyga]
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
DJ Far
