Lil Reese - No Lackin, Money Stackin Lyrics

[Intro:]
Got all these bands this money I'm stackin'
My Squad, Squad. Turn up
Got all these bands this money I'm stackin
300

[Hook:]
Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin
Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin
Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin
Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin
Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin
Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin
Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin
Bitch I'm out here in the field, so it's team no lackin

[Verse 1: Lil Reese]
Niggas playing games, I ain't for none what's crackin?
And I'm out here in the field so it's team no lackin
I'm off the shits, I won't stop I'm crackin
Got all these bands, this money I'm stackin
Ain't playing games, we ain't for none what's crackin?
We sliding doors back and young niggas clappin
Racing to the money I'm speeding like a rabbit
Got a lot of money try to take what I'm having
You get clapped up and that's faster than a rabbit
On 64th, bitch we what's happening
Try to come through, you get clapped with the Mac
300 shit bitch I been a savage

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame]
He reach for it that's a dead body
Elmer Fudd, double barrel shotty
My neck rocky and I'm off a molly
My bitch bad with a Buffie body
Young niggas shoot at anybody
All these bands got a nigga cocky
Strapped in the club motherfucker
Lil Reese get him!
Man down, let the piece hit him
During broad day and police with him
Yellow tape, let the streets get him
Chalk him out, white sheet did him
Bow bow, I'm bussin' at him
I'm balling hard, no NBA
My bitch a diamond, Lisa Raye
Spend 20k at least a day,
Do it weekends nigga I do it everyday
She with me she go everyway
Count this money til' my fingers hurt
When I hit the pussy I bet she squirt
Selling dope, we ain't got to work
Real nigga, no tight shirt
My gun don't work, I got a knife
You disrespect, I'm doing life

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Wale]
Lot of paper bring a lot of haters, capeesh?
And the more you make a be the more you make, it ain't sweet
But I do me (fasho!)
Do I lose sleep? (hell no!)
If I fall down, before they start counting I'm back on my feet
This that flyraq meet chiraq, no contest with that flow
All of my heads out, with young dreadlocks, couple real niggas from the 'go
Like I said in one song
Life is lame with no goals
Barely rap about dope, whenever I don't you niggas ignore
Chop be cooking that crack, and talking hard rock, and talking that snow
Naw, Chop a send me that track, I send that shit back and back in that hearse
Chop ain't something I know, ain't something I did just keeping it real
As a matter of fact, you never moved crack
But knowing ya'll rappers a probably throw a brick, bitch

[Hook]