Racks in me like a Pinata Fuck you blue Balenciagas Robin Jeans with the foamposits Hit the club now my black Barbers Bloods with me Woo Woo Woo No set trippin' They kno' I'm crippin' fool Jesus pieces 10k gold I'mma fuckin' fool you better act cool German Shepherds in my backyard Train to kill I was born to deal I was on the hill R.I.P to One of the rest in Peace Clifford Deal My daddy backed out you done fucked up Hit the Magic City pack it out You hatin' on me I don't give a fuck I'mma street nigga You can walk it out I'm in Pittsburgh with a lot of hoes Young nigga with a BankRoll Scrape the pot I was in the hood Mama stayed on GlenWood Seventeen with a .38 Don't fuck around and make me thirty-eight Twenty-four hours I was tryna get it I wasn't waitin' on First forty-eight
Got a family to feed gotta family to feed They depending on me they depending on me If you don't believe in me I'm like fuck ya I'm like fuck ya! Thought you believed in me I thought you had them racks but you got evicted Heard you had it on you penny pinching 'Til I pulled up, get it, get it, get it Racks on me like a mofucka I was just broke like a mofucka Racks on me like wow Fuck niggas like how? How he do that? Jumped off the porch I was on the go Mama couldn't tell me shit I was trappin' in the fo' Could you take the pain away I gotta make a way a way For my family
Gotta family to feed gotta family to feed They depending on me they depending on me If you don't believe in me I'm like fuck ya I'm like fuck ya! Fuck ya!
Writer/s: CHADRON MOORE, MARQUAVIS GOOLSBY, MICHAEL GIVENS
Publisher: ANTIDOTE MUSIC GROUP, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
"Friends In Low Places" by Garth Brooks was written by two Nashville songwriters after a meal in a local restaurant. One of them forgot his money, but said not to worry, "I have friends in low places. I know the cook."