COUNT IT! Lyrics

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Bitches on my motherfuckin' line

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Don't get lost, you'll get dropped on a dime

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Only opp in this bitch thats in his prime

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Don't need no friends, ain't shakin' hands bitch I'm fine

How many mics I gotta rip on a daily, huh

Say me, say many money

Say me, say many, many, many

Too many bitches on my line tryna get with me

I got them like, ooh, it's gettin' sticky

My rap's harder than pottery

Way better than the shit you niggas got for free

My shit jump off the shelves like hot commodities

Don't need your camaraderie, you niggas weird

So disappear

Poof

I'm in my cloak, a Harry Potter feat

I'll make any nigga who doubted, acknowledge me

You niggas literally like my kids, so don't talk to me

I need an apology for the shit you say

My mood stiffer than that dick shit that you niggas take

I've been the greatest since Slick Rick

Greatest since LL

Greatest since Kane, and on stage, I raise hell

Leave y'all in disbelief when I spit this heat, hell yeah Keep lackin

I knock shit out, Steve Blackman

They countin' like

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Bitches on my motherfuckin' line

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Don't get lost, you'll get dropped on a dime

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Only opp in this bitch thats in his prime

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Don't need no friends, ain't shakin' hands bitch I'm fine

Monkey see, monkey do

Is it me or is it you

Don't you know I'm not a fool, I'm not the one who finna lose

I think it's weird how people do

My mans done sold me out for a bitch, so tell me

How I'm supposed to trust in you

My own homeboys criticize, scrutinize, using lies and the truth disguised to make my character look bad

And now I ain't got a heart to lose I'm droppin' you and part confused cause all of you put stress on my shoulders like a book bag

But fuck it

I get into the mix like it's cake batter

And yeah I got your shorty so what, don't think bout her

And yeah I know she love me, she gettin' my name tatted

Nicknamed the boy Graffiti, she love when my paint splatter

I'm twice as nice and cold as frozen snow I like to fight and throw them bows

My flows is cold, I like to write, but know it's on

When you bitch-ass niggas try steppin' on the throne

They're countin' like

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Bitches on my motherfuckin' line

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Don't get lost, you'll get dropped on a dime

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Only opp in this bitch thats in his prime

One, Two, Three, 456, Seven, Eight, Nine

Don't need no friends, ain't shakin' hands bitch I'm fine

Hold on, wait

Don't be talkin

Your shorty spendin' the night with me, won't be walkin

I'm bred to kill the pussy, the vets say it's in my pedigree

It's time to play the game and, boy, you better be ready, nigga