This is a song about "Count"

Wrap around 'til they hit the ground and they hear a sound

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

Body count is high, when i grip the mic

What you tripping on?see, i'm the spoiled chick

Well do the hokey-pokey, and turn that ass around

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

I count 5 fingers between you and me

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

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

I just want to kick it, kick it for the rest

What are you doing, learning to count syllables?

How they got these niggas on the tv selling miracles

The body count is the physical proof

And i done seen some old beefs make a bunch of news

Killing sheep while i count the carcasses asleep.

Then bossip for gossip, ybf in concrete