This is a song about "Countin bands"

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

Reaper why did you take away all of the good bands?

I'm a motherfucking beast see me in your sleep

Dreamed about how i used to be countin sheep

On the corner, a old bitch dropped fifty bands

We getting money, you can face the facts

Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs

A lot of women from conversation could fall in love

Bands will make her dance so baby go

People love hodgy i hate you though

In the t.dot i'm a soldier with ranks

Out here fucking bitches popping bands

Finna grab a bowl countin bites im gonn take

I put it to your mug, and it ain’t gonna wait

And understand i work hard to make these bands.

But it made me the man i am today, thanks