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Lil Wayne - 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 bitch
Get money or should i say young money, ay killa you know the rules dip set fo life

I'm all about that motherfucking 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 motherfucking phantom ghost
This song goes out to all my niggas 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 in forth taking nodoze
Rollex 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 sucked my dick, swallowed it, my watch still said quarter to
Dipset, young money, niggas 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 niggas?
My summer home, pool deck with like a hundred on
Who's a threat? got a pool net, and my jewels wet like a thunder storm

[hook]

I'm all about that motherfucking 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 motherfucking phantom ghost
This song goes out to all my niggas getting dough
60 rackz in my pocket, 60 rackz in my jeans
60 rackz in my pocket top back when i lean

[lil wayne - verse 2]
Swear to god i go so hard they call me tunechi fuck em all
Can't pack no guns so i pack a knife like that fuckin chuck doll
I'm at your net like a shark on your ass like some draws
I got 3 hoes with me, fuck i look like santa claus
I got bad bitches all over me, real niggas that roll with me
And we get off weight, and that one bitch from ?
Got a pair of paints with 4 pockets, fifteen karat ? charm
Do the math you mo fucka, i'm on my rob and leech blood
Skating with my homies, talking shit smoking weed
I oversee everything, niggas call me overseas
Young moola mutha fucka, click clack boo ya mutha fucka
60 rackz in my pocket, try to jack and get bodied

[hook]

I'm all about that motherfucking 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 rocket top back when i lean
I pull up in that motherfucking phantom ghost
This song goes out to all my niggas getting dough
60 rackz in my pocket, 60 rackz in my jeans
60 rackz in my rocket top back when i lean

[cam'ron - verse 3]
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 niggas 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 thats racks on racks
They ship it in, i give it to ya
On the ground or in the air
They drop it off
They like lebron in the 4th quarter, i give it to ya
I be me, you be you
Apologies to groovie lou
Sorry brah i ain't fuckin with mase
Yea yea tell em you be cool
Me i rep that hud 6
I ain't even gon' play with em
All that underwear for real
You can fool wale and them
The mac well thats black on black
True fact i'm crack on tracks
Play around, and ill lay you down
60 racks on yon yo cap nigga