This is a song about "Count"

And verbally swears the count in making

‘cause he could die any day and you still the same thing

It's about niggas and bitches, power and money

The hardest four bars, and i aint even count to three

Your mouth, i don't need, your legs, you can keep

Killing sheep while i count the carcasses asleep.

What are you doing, learning to count syllables?

Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts

It dont say it doesnt count if you recite it in bars

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Best believe ima count bankroll, fuck and pass hoes,

Best believe i'm leaving with more of those

My levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent

Can't even count, how many times i prayed for his help,

'cuz y'all don't understand i will not lose

The body count is the physical proof