This is a song about "Count"

Count doughwork hard all day ever day

Another round what the song say

Count on myself like a castaway

Load em up quick, it's time for us to spray

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

Now that's six cops found on that ground

Body count is high, when i grip the mic

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

And put another half a mil in my bank account

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

I count 5 fingers between you and me

We ain't hear to hurt nobody

When i count to three, you flea

I'd done stacked many

I kill cereal and spout my skills like i'm the count

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