This is a song about "Count f monte cristo"

Count on myself like a castaway

Represent the borough nigga, b.k. all day

And verbally swears the count in making

I got my wife, so fuck the ring

When she f***in' turns around

Meek milly racked up racked out

Some hosting dude tryna get the head count

Can't seem to find a solid ground

Taking ten thousand tragedies- boy i can't even count

And me and them rappers we don’t share no common ground

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

How could i not blow? all i do is drop "f" bombs

Then get out your seat and jump around

The girl give me da head count

Or count sheep while you sleep

I keep my money neat