Jim Jones - 60 Rackz (Remix) lyrics

This is the Vmix! How big said it When the Rémy's in the system Well I got a 60 clip on me Like an AK in my pocket, b**h Get money Or should I say young money Ay k**a you know the rules dip set for life [Hook: Jim Jones] I'm all about that motherf**ing paper ho This song goes out to all my money making hoes 60 rackz in my pocket, 60 rackz in my jeans 60 rackz in my pocket, top back when I lean I pull up in that motherf**ing Phantom Ghost This song goes out to all my n***as getting dough 60 rackz in my pocket, 60 rackz in my jeans 60 rackz in my pocket top back when I lean [Verse 1: Jim Jones] 60 racks thats no dough, mattes fact thats ho dough I made that when I transported, back and forth taking Nodoze Rolex rose gold, my neck so cold She seen't that quarter chill, V in black, quarter mill We don't shop at saveraux, 60 thou for the roll Drop top foreign flow, this is not affordable Wrist cold, caught the flu, Cartier said quarter to She s**ed my dick, swallowed it, my watch still said quarter to Dipset, Young Money, n***as know that that money grown Wanna talk to me, you better talk to me, from that pool deck of my summer home (Can't hear you n***as) My summer home, pool deck with like a hundred on Who's a threat? Got a pool net, and my j**els wet like a thunderstorm [Hook] [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] Swear to God I go so hard, they call me Tunechi f** 'em all Can't pack no gun, so I keep a knife like that f**in' Chucky doll I'm at your neck like a shawl, on your a** like some drawers I got 3 hoes with me, f**, I look like Santa Claus And I got bad b**hes all over me, real n***as that roll with me And we get off weight like that one b**h from Floetry Got a pair of pants with 4 pockets, 15K in each of 'em Do the math you mo'f**a, I'm on my Robin Leach, blood Skating with my homeboys, talking sh** smoking weed I oversee everything, n***as call me overseas Young mulah mothaf**a, click clack boo ya, mothaf**a 60 rackz in my pocket, try to jack and get bodied Young Tunechi [Hook] [Verse 3: Cam'ron] I got an ill gift, I'm real swift, they be like, "Damn, he still rich" When I send my men in black listen none of them n***as is will smith I sell coke, I deal piff, when I ride by in that black on black Ménage à trois with two double D's, come to see that's racks on racks They ship it in, I give it to ya on the ground or in the air They drop it off, they're like LeBron in the 4th quarter, I give it there I be me, you be you, apologies to Groovie Lou Sorry, brah, I ain't f**in' with mase, yea yea tell 'em you be cool Me I rep that Hud 6, I ain't even gon' play with 'em Harlem Underworld for real, you can fool Wale and them The MAC, well, that's black on black, true fact I'm crack on tracks Play around, and I'll lay you down, 60 racks in your cap, n***a [Hook]