Released: December 24, 2020

Producer: Frank Dukes Metro Boomin

[Intro]
Tried to tell them niggas think outside the box, know what I'm sayin'?
If young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you

[Chorus]
Got too many racks on me, can't fit in the wallet
Got too much style on me, can't fuck with no stylist
You got that hate all in your soul, can't do nothin' about it
You got that hate inside your soul, you can't do nothin' about it
Got too many racks on me, can't fit in the wallet
Got too much style on me, can't fuck with no stylist
You got that hate all in your soul, can't do nothin' about it
You done sold your soul, you can't do nothin' about it

[Verse 1]
One for the money, yes Sir, two for the show
A couple years ago, sellin' blow in Mexico
Was a starter, something good
Now I pull up in the 'Rari, I'm in my hood
Yeah, just rollin' that dank up
Niggas ain't never wanted no war with us
Niggas ain't never did fly with us
Bitch, my clique notorious
Bet you can't come close to this
I sit in the back of the whip like this
Got a bankroll like I'm still servin' that fish scale
I did a girl in private, she don't wanna hide it
Before you tell your mamma, you need to run it by me
I'm takin' this personal, nigga, like Monica
I do what I want, I go fuck up some commas
I keep a strap on me, Osama, you know I came and conquered
I put the hustle in front of me, you know a nigga a monster
You know a nigga piranha, you know I hop out at any time
And I'm in Chanel and Prada

[Chorus]
Got too many racks on me, can't fit in the wallet
Got too much style on me, can't fuck with no stylist
You got that hate all in your soul, can't do nothin' about it
You got that hate inside your soul, you can't do nothin' about it
Got too many racks on me, can't fit in the wallet
Got too much style on me, can't fuck with no stylist
You got that hate all in your soul, can't do nothin' about it
You done sold your soul, you can't do nothin' about it

[Verse 2]
You in them cuts 'cause that's your hideaway
You at your grandma house, you posted up
You put that chopper on IG
You ready to let it go to make 'em outta believers
You hit your block and get at it
You hit that block and get at it
You used to glorify this life, nigga
Yeah, them niggas took your life, nigga
You see how niggas thinkin' 'bout you?
Now, you layin' on the pavement
Nigga, bleedin' from your backside
'Boutta take a long vacation
Pour out Hennessey for you
Pour some Hennessey for you
I know that's your favorite drink, nigga
(I know that's your favorite drink)

[Chorus]
Got too many racks on me, can't fit in the wallet
Got too much style on me, can't fuck with no stylist
You got that hate all in your soul, can't do nothin' about it
You got that hate inside your soul, you can't do nothin' about it
Got too many racks on me, can't fit in the wallet
Got too much style on me, can't fuck with no stylist
You got that hate all in your soul, can't do nothin' about it
You done sold your soul, you can't do nothin' about it

Future

Nayvadius DeMun Wilburn (b. November 20, 1983), popularly known as Future, is an American rapper and singer from Kirkwood, Atlanta, Georgia. He is signed to Epic Records. He is the cousin of Rocko and Rico Wade and a former associate of the Dungeon Family. He first rapped under the stage name Meathead.

Future has made himself known for his extensive use of auto-tune, producing a flurry of hit singles such as “Fuck Up Some Commas” and “Turn On The Lights”, among others.

Future is also known for his hook singing on tracks such as “Buy The World”, “U.O.E.N.O, “Loveeeeee Song” & “Pain”.