This is a song about "Count"

Or count sheep while you sleep

I keep my money neat

I'm a king.you should kiss my pinky ring

And verbally swears the count in making

Reason i stuck with the sound

Jaw don't work no more, can you count?

Aim, shoot, the gun of love, round

The girl give me da head count

On trial for possession of some chronic

Body count is high, when i grip the mic

Never knew a hooker that could share me, i get around

Your telling me how to write boy i'm glad you can count,

I'm piling up these letters too high for me to count

I heard ya lost do you know your way around