Countin' ft. Don Q Lyrics

I got a bitch on the side I fucked her raw and now she thinks she mine

I keep a gun I don't hide Niggas moving like they might be allergic

To outside I was on the block in the cold

Cook em like a pot Put his top on the stove

Scamming a lot on the road Countin' checks, Countin' blues and Countin' pros

Paying the plug with the green Keepin' hundreds and

Fifty's all in my jeans Came in with a gun in my threes

I ain't jordan but you know I'm shooting for my team

And you know I shoot for the set R.I.P. hicc, ever since

I've been pouring out Moët

Hit your block, lput your face on the doormat

Sent the blitz just waiting for the call back

Pitching bricks since aim n sconex

They still in drip but can't take the format

Facts

You know I came with the yzzz Sticking like glu won't never drop a dime

Do it for the beast in the sky I'm shooting for the one

You know I'm killing for the 9 And I cannot tell on my guys

If I tell them anything, I'd tell them lies

Niggas keep switching they sides

Bullet to his head, that's how the niggas die

Shoot that nigga face off his phone

The cops took my 80 now a Nigga gotta keep the chrome

I'm a nigga that keep it on Cause I know these niggas wanna see me gone

I got a bitch on the side I fucked her raw and now She thinks she mine

I keep a gun I don't hide, niggas move it like they might be allergic to outside

I was on the block in the cold

Cooked him like a pot, put his top on the stove

Scamming a lot on the road Count chicks, count Blues and count pros

I got a bitch on the side I fucked her raw and now she thinks she mine

I keep a gun I don't hide

Niggas move it like they might be allergic to outside

I was on the block in the cold

Cooked him like a pot, put his top on the stove

Scamming a lot on the road

Count chicks, count blues and count pros

I call up loc, he gon' slide He turn your Into stripped to the 4th of July

When he do a hit, he perform with a nine

But niggas be snitchin', reportin' the crime

I got some niggas upstate still callin' my line

He said he got offered a dime

My Muslim got caught with a shank

But they crossin' the line

Some niggas just offered them swine

You know that's haram

I ride with the rocket, so don't get alarmed

It fit in my pocket, but blow like a bomb

I pass it like Stockton and he roll like

Malone You know I ain't hiding and

I roll with the cons

My white boy that live in the West be sendin' me pictures

As soon as it grow on the front Bag full of grass like I'm mowin' a lawn

Got passion tats that I wrote on my arm

I got a bitch on the side I'm fuckin' raw, now she think she mine

I keep the gun I don't hide

Niggas movin' like they might be allergic

To outside I was on the block in the cold

Cook him like a pot, put his top on the stove Scamin' a lot on the road

Count checks, count blues, and count pros I got a bitch on the side

I'm fuckin' raw now she think she mine I keep the Gun I don't hide

Niggas movin' like they might be allergic to outside

I was on the block in the cold Cook him like a pot, put his top on the stove

Scamming a lot on the road

Count checks, count blues and count pros