| Hello?
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| Woah
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| Aye, I’ma call you right back bruh
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| I’m trynna finish countin this money bruh
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| You makin me fuck up bruh
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| I’ma call you right back bruh
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| Shit man
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| Aye, aye
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| I keep on startin over
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| Cause I keep fuckin up the count
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| I’m steady startin over
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| I keep fuckin up the count
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| I keep on startin over
|
| Cause I keep fuckin up the count
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| I’m steady startin over
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| I keep fuckin up the count
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| Got my foreign drop top
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| Parked in front of yo bitch house
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| I’m headin to the trap
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| Just came from out yo bitch mouth
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| I’m fresh as fuck
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| I’m high as hell
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| Just smoked about a ounce
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| I’m steady startin over
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| I keep fuckin up the count
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| I keep fuckin up the count
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| I keep rollin out the pound
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| I keep nothin but real ones round me
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| Turn my hood to kush county
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| AKA Castalia
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| I pay her rent
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| And she hold my sack
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| Nigga, that’s a favor for a favor
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| You can have them bitches
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| I just want the stacks
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| Lil nigga came up from shit
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| Somedays I just sit and reminisce
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| Who was fuckin with me back then?
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| Who was fuckin with me back when?
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| Back when my momma and my daddy was smokin
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| When a young nigga was fucked up
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| And hopeless
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| They don’t like this shit
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| And I know it
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| Fuck ‘em
|
| Went and bought another Rollie
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| Got a pocket full of guacamole
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| I got nothin but designer on me
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| Two hundred thow worth of bling
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| Glowin
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| If it ain’t raw
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| I ain’t even pourin
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| If it ain’t bout money
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| I ain’t even goin
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| You already know what I’m on
|
| San Fransisco cookies got me stoned
|
| Pick up the paper and I’m gone
|
| I keep on startin over
|
| Cause I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I’m steady startin over
|
| I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I keep on startin over
|
| Cause I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I’m steady startin over
|
| I keep fuckin up the count
|
| Got my foreign drop top
|
| Parked in front of yo bitch house
|
| I’m headin to the trap
|
| Just came from out yo bitch mouth
|
| I’m fresh as fuck
|
| I’m high as hell
|
| Just smoked about a ounce
|
| I’m steady startin over
|
| I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I keep blowin money
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| I keep rollin up weed
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| In the strip club, throwin money
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| All these niggas say they real
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| But most of ‘em the fakest
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| Two labels offered me two milli
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| But I didn’t take it
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| I’m chillin
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| I’m good
|
| I’m straight
|
| These rappers, they broke
|
| I’m paid
|
| Codeine in my pink lemonade
|
| Givenchy my attire today
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| For my niggas, I go out of my way
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| Pussy nigga move up out of my way
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| I had to go hard for this shit
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| Nigga, I put my heart in this shit
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| Never gave my heart to a bitch
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| I won’t even argue with a bitch
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| Some of these bitches more realer than these niggas
|
| Back seat of the Bentley
|
| The choppa hold bout 50
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| In and out the city
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| Yo bitch said she missed me
|
| I keep on startin over
|
| Cause I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I’m steady startin over
|
| I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I keep on startin over
|
| Cause I keep fuckin up the count
|
| I’m steady startin over
|
| I keep fuckin up the count
|
| Got my foreign drop top
|
| Parked in front of yo bitch house
|
| I’m headin to the trap
|
| Just came from out yo bitch mouth
|
| I’m fresh as fuck
|
| I’m high as hell
|
| Just smoked about a ounce
|
| I’m steady startin over
|
| I keep fuckin up the count |