(Ho's would Lovelife)
Whoa, whoa (Tracy, Tracy)
Whoa, whoa, whoa (Tracy, Tracy)
These hoes is for everyone (yeah, we got a whole lot of drip)
These hoes is for everyone, okay (Cash Molly)
Yeah, leggo, leggo

These hoes is for everyone
Don't make a mistake tryna marry one (ain't tryna marry one)
Too much water, I escaped from the aquarium (leggo, leggo)
Yeah, he bleed, just like I bleed, so I ain't scared of him
I be rockin' Dior when I take out the trash (when I take out the trash)
I just walked out of Louis Vuitton, I need help carrying all of these bags
Okay
I'ma let you know the forecast
It's my motherfucking season and it's raining racks

And niggas wanna be friends now
Back in the day try to carry me (yeah)
Coolin' with than a bad bitch now
She throwing it back on the balcony (whoa)
Big money, with a big house
Until you got that don't be @ing' me
Boy, you living at your bitch house
Depending on her, that's a tragedy
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm smokin' this dope, I'm zooted (I'm zooted, I'm zooted)
She walking around in my crib with no clothes
I'm starting to think she a nudist
Feel like Juice WRLD, okay, all of my dreams are lucid
Push to start, yeah, the keys are useless
When I jump on the beat I go stupid (yeah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
And I'm just tryna put on for my city
If it was my choice all of my dead friends would be with me (no cap)
I gotta keep my head on straight (my head straight)
And I created my own wave

Hold up, I'ma let the beat talk

Okay
These hoes is for everyone
Don't make a mistake tryna marry one (ain't tryna marry one)
Too much water, I escaped from the aquarium (leggo, leggo)
Yeah, he bleed, just like I bleed, so I ain't scared of him
I be rockin' Dior when I take out the trash (when I take out the trash)
I just walked out of Louis Vuitton, I need help carrying all of these bags
Okay
I'ma let you know the forecast
It's my motherfucking season and it's raining racks

Tatted on my body like a cholo (yeah)
Six hundred for my shoes and yeah they Yohji Yamamoto (yeah)
She hop on the dick, and then she start movin' it slow-mo (yeah)
My life is a movie and your life is photo
Why this little nigga jocking swag?
I'm not tryna stay in the mix, I'm tryna stay inside my bag (yeah)
All that shit you talking need to stay inside your ass
Put some shooters on his noggin
Leave him stained up like some glass

It's raining racks
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
It's raining racks
Yeah, yeah
It's raining racks
Whoa, it's raining racks
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Raining racks

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Jazz Ishmael Butler