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i-racks (feat. speddyeddie, ismane) - daiie lyrics

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[intro: etta james]
when somebody loves you
all*all*all the way
all* the wayyyyy*

[chorus: speddyeddie]
twelve b*tches, in my room like i’m ja morant
f*ck her once, send them back, we got guns like iraq (iraq)
this b*tch tripping this a rari not no pontiac
i took a bean in the morning i don’t know how to act
i lay her on my bed and you know i hit from the back
ten bands on my bed i call that a stack

[verse 1: dalle]
yeeeeaaah!
d*mn f*ck em, that’s a stack
the people say that want more of that, i’m like yeah i f*ck with that
(say what?)
yeah, woo yeah, i f*ck with that
watch as i blow my stack she’s going crazy, from the back
she’s complaining she wants my stack i understand but that is that
shawty going crazy, yeah what?
shawty going crazy, yeah what?
shawty going crazy, yeah what?
shawty going crazy, yeah huh?
call me crazy but i got more to say (yеah!)
skirt skirt but we on the freeway
skirt skirt but uh
we blow hеr back call me ja morant
shooting threes and running it back (huh?)
she juggles b*lls like a maniac, call her bundy cause she’s k!lling that
and we call gotta say this sh*t
[chorus: speddyeddie]
twelve b*tches, in my room like i’m ja morant
f*ck her once, send them back, we got guns like iraq (yeah!)
this b*tch tripping this a rari not no pontiac
i took a bean in the morning i don’t know how to act
i lay her on my bed and you know i hit from the back
ten bands on my bed i call that a stack

[verse 2: ismane, dalle]
(ismane)
we got guns what is that
we f*ck em once that is that
this b*tch want more, we say “wh0re”
get off the studio with my bros go to the house suck some toes
get off the studio with my bros go to the back and f*ck some hoes
yeah (yeah) woo (uh) yeah (yeah) f*ck some hoes (yeah yeah!)
*laughing*

[dalle]
uh, michael jackson she wanna beat it
running away like a zebra
the way i run, im a cheeta
but these hoes tryna see ya (ba*ba*boom!)
run it back they wanna be ya
everybody in the same room
there gonna sing for you baby
yeah all of that is (true)
[chorus: speddyeddie, dalle, uncle j.]
twelve b*tches, in my room like i’m ja morant
f*ck her once, send them back, we got guns like iraq (yeah yeah!)
(pow pow pow) this b*tch tripping (yuh) this a rari not no pontiac
(go! go!) i took a bean in the morning i don’t know how to act (mumbling)

[outro]
*z money crying*
“hold you’re f*cking arm” *tigga t
“why are you recording?!” *ab
“that’s f*cked up” *tigga t
*z money screaming*
“me?!” *dalle
*more screaming*

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