Racks to the Ceiling

Tory LanezTory Lanez 

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Tory Lanez

Daystar Peterson, better known by his stage name Tory Lanez, is a Canadian rapper, singer, songwriter, record producer, director, and fashion designer from Toronto, Ontario. Peterson founded the One Umbrella imprint with his brothers in Toronto. more »

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Ooh
Jetski, brr
Bitch
(Oh my God, Ronny)

Racks all the way to the ceiling (yeah)
Racks all the way to the ceiling, ooh (yeah)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give a f*ck how you feelin', ooh (brr)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, ooh (esskeetit)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give a f*ck how you feelin', ooh (ooh)

Watch how I blow through a million
Dive in the pussy, esskeetit, ooh (yeah)
All of my whips came tinted
None of my cars ain't rented, ooh, uh (woah)
Balmain and Celine (yeah), off a molly and a bean, yeah (okay)
This not Fruit of the Loom, my boxers they say Supreme (Supreme)
She said, "Tussie, not pussy" (huh), my diamonds they wet like jacuzzi, yeah (okay)
I put my thumb in her booty, ooh, it just went through her Ksubis, ooh (ooh)
I got ten guns in my house, this shit look like Call of Duty (bow, bow, bow)
Red diamonds on me, they ruby, suck on me, don't give me cooties (ooh, damn)
Go from the jets to the jetski, your baby mama wan' sex me, uh (come here)
She eat me up like spaghetti, my diamonds splashing baguettes, uh (wet)
Step on my bitch in Guiseppe's, I'm in Ukraine with a semi (huh, bow)
All my jewelry new security, dare a nigga try to test me (huh, I dare you, ooh)

Racks all the way to the ceiling (yeah)
Racks all the way to the ceiling, ooh
Racks all the way to the ceiling (yeah)
I give no f*ck how you feelin', ooh (brr)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, ooh (esskeetit)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give a f*ck how you feelin' (ooh)

She wanna f*ck with umbrella
But her friend ugly, I told her, "Hold up, lil' fella"
When they send it, my cash extended
As soon as it's printed right fresh out the teller
I got a old check, hoo, blowing off dirt 'fore I take it out the cellar
Lil' bitch calling me rude, hating all of my views
"Bitch, you fat as my pockets," you know I'ma tell her
I hit that bitch with a wing
F*ck her in the bathroom, washing my dick in the sink
If it's a ting, it's a ting
Bobbin' and weavin' that pussy and doing my thing in the ring
I'm goin' stupid on Cubans, it's link, after link, after link
I'm doin' sour in all of my relationships
I be lying 'bout fling, after fling, after fling, after fling
Wearing this Louis, inside of my closet look just like a warehouse
How many hundred dollar bands and booby can I cut the rubber band off and tear out?
Touching way too much cash for me to care 'bout
Still, I'll come kill a nigga 'bout my payout
These niggas talkin' hot, I feel like AR with the shot
I let the AR come and air out, woo

Racks all the way to the ceiling (Tory)
Racks all the way to the ceiling, ooh (lil' tory)
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give no f*ck how you feelin', ooh, brr
Racks all the way to the ceiling
Racks all the way to the ceiling, ooh, esskeetit
Racks all the way to the ceiling
I give no f*ck how you feelin', ooh

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