The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
2-17 on the track, man
Lil Pump
Yeah, yeah, ooh
Huh, yeah, huh, ayy
Yeah, yeah, yeah
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
I fuck that bitch in a Cadillac, ooh
After that she didn't know how to act, ooh
Back then I used to be quarterback
Go to the bank and I pull out 100 racks
Put the AR in the trunk of my Pontiac
Want me fo' sho, bitch I'm chargin' 'bout 40 bands
I'm into trappin', I'm shippin' out hella packs
Diamonds dance so crazy, ooh
Your diamonds so fugazi, ooh
Bitch said the crash is the eighty, yeah
I just bought a brand new Mercedes, huh
In the kitchen whippin' up babies, ooh
In the kitchen whippin' up baby, yeah
And I got a bitch named Hailey, huh
And I got a bitch named Hailey (brr)
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah (Lil Boat)
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah Lil Boat, Lil Boat, Lil Boat, Lil Boat, Lil Boat)
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Young rich nigga need a dick rub
Hit it from the back, make her jump like a hiccup
Bang, bang, bang, like ya knockin' on the front door
Bitch brown skin like a muhfuckin' fronto
Used to post at the Citgo, uh
Now I got chips in the Citgo, uh
Now I got a wrist like a igloo, huh
And it glow like a disco ball
Bih, bend it over like your shoe's untied
Side bitch still got a iPhone 5
Main bitch still got a iPhone 7
Still caught a Uzi pistol or a MAC-11
Still fuck a nigga main bitch while I got my own bitch
And I better still make it up to Heaven, uh
I'ma have a kid just to dress him up in Gucci
To the seven, Goddamn, I'm a reverend
Lil Boat, Lil Pump
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Lil Pump
Yeah, yeah, ooh
Huh, yeah, huh, ayy
Yeah, yeah, yeah
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
I fuck that bitch in a Cadillac, ooh
After that she didn't know how to act, ooh
Back then I used to be quarterback
Go to the bank and I pull out 100 racks
Put the AR in the trunk of my Pontiac
Want me fo' sho, bitch I'm chargin' 'bout 40 bands
I'm into trappin', I'm shippin' out hella packs
Diamonds dance so crazy, ooh
Your diamonds so fugazi, ooh
Bitch said the crash is the eighty, yeah
I just bought a brand new Mercedes, huh
In the kitchen whippin' up babies, ooh
In the kitchen whippin' up baby, yeah
And I got a bitch named Hailey, huh
And I got a bitch named Hailey (brr)
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah (Lil Boat)
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah Lil Boat, Lil Boat, Lil Boat, Lil Boat, Lil Boat)
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Young rich nigga need a dick rub
Hit it from the back, make her jump like a hiccup
Bang, bang, bang, like ya knockin' on the front door
Bitch brown skin like a muhfuckin' fronto
Used to post at the Citgo, uh
Now I got chips in the Citgo, uh
Now I got a wrist like a igloo, huh
And it glow like a disco ball
Bih, bend it over like your shoe's untied
Side bitch still got a iPhone 5
Main bitch still got a iPhone 7
Still caught a Uzi pistol or a MAC-11
Still fuck a nigga main bitch while I got my own bitch
And I better still make it up to Heaven, uh
I'ma have a kid just to dress him up in Gucci
To the seven, Goddamn, I'm a reverend
Lil Boat, Lil Pump
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
All I do is count racks, ooh
Told that bih throw that shit back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, yeah
Throw it back, huh
Throw it back, ooh
Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher
Back Lyrics as written by Gazzy Garcia Miles Parks Mccollum
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
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“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.