[Intro: Big 36oz]
Rackz
Soldier

[Chorus: Big 36oz]
Yeah, we got the same struggle, we brothers
Don't you hang your hat up like a buster
You gon' fuck around, turn to a custard
No, these n***as not acting like hustlers
Rather talk 'bout they mans and them
All they got is more than him
But they really not loyal to him
Have my fuckin' these hoes that is jank
Only wanna kill n***as with rank
Make Soldier pull up in a tank
I got a box filled up, that's with dirty racks
If you gas, n***a, run in the bank
Give a fuck what these young n***as think
'Bout that cash, my young n***a won't blink
Won't blink, won't blink
Up that fire, I'ma shoot, I won't blank

[Verse 1: Luh Soldier]
Yeah, ain't never had a handout, had to make it happen
Phone still goin' bananas
I been on the road, hold up, let me talk my shit
Ain't making no sing-along
Trap shit, n***a, where is the money?
Money coming in back to back
Beat the blunts, keep them hoes in rotation
Call me up a freak, tell her bring a friend
F&N's, best believe that we keep it
These n***as fake, I can't keep it a secret
Pull up in a tank, twos and threes got his ass
Money dirty, I stay with a rack or two
Shout out to Reggie, we keep it on him, yeah
Money gon' keep elevating
I stayed down, dawg, you gotta be patient
I'ma blank if you play with my money
Lil' buddy, I'm up tryna run up the bands for real
Gas in and it's vacuum sealed, just got that shit out of Cali
This shit that we smokin' fantastic
Get hit with that fire, boy, that shit gon' be tragic
Took the harder way, no, not the Magic
This chopper with me make his team do a backflip

[Chorus: Big 36oz]
Yeah, we got the same struggle, we brothers
Don't you hang your hat up like a buster
You gon' fuck around, turn to a custard
No, these n***as not acting like hustlers
Rather talk 'bout they mans and them
All they got is more than him
But they really not loyal to him
Have my fuckin' these hoes that is jank
Only wanna kill n***as with rank
Make Soldier pull up in a tank
I got a box filled up, that's with dirty racks
If you gas, n***a, run in the bank
Give a fuck what these young n***as think
'Bout that cash, my young n***a won't blink
Won't blink, won't blink
Up that fire, I'ma shoot, I won't blank

[Verse 2: Derty Rackz]
Got these young n***as slidin' for free
I got bitches that charge you a fee
All this paper I got out the street
Heard that money turn you to a beast
Ain't no pressure on paper, I'm havin' this shit
Seventy-five hundred pounds in a week
In the trap every day, counting twenty or thirty a night
Then I can't even leave
Phone ringing, I can't even sleep
At the spot, I ain't taking no breaks
It ain't ready, your ass gotta wait
Just like Benis, we cook in your face
N***a rappin' 'bout bricks but we havin' that shit
Put 36 right in your face
Sell that shit in a whole 'nother state
Pull up with a thirty clip right on my waist
Hundred-fifty K just off a play
And I did this shit twice in a month
Soda city, how many you want?
They was peekin', but n***as ain't comp
N***as act like they got it, but flexin', not really
Sold ten of them bitches for lunch
And these bitches be actin' saditty
But come to my spot and get fucked for a blunt

[Chorus: Big 36oz]
Yeah, we got the same struggle, we brothers
Don't you hang your hat up like a buster
You gon' fuck around, turn to a custard
No, these n***as not acting like hustlers
Rather talk 'bout they mans and them
All they got is more than him
But they really not loyal to him
Have my fuckin' these hoes that is jank
Only wanna kill n***as with rank
Make Soldier pull up in a tank
I got a box filled up, that's with dirty racks
If you gas, n***a, run in the bank
Give a fuck what these young n***as think
'Bout that cash, my young n***a won't blink
Won't blink, won't blink
Up that fire, I'ma shoot, I won't blank