Missed Count - Young Dolph

Hello?

Woah

Aye, I’ma call you right back bruh

I’m trynna finish countin this money bruh

You makin me fuck up bruh

I’ma call you right back bruh

Shit man

Aye, aye

I keep on startin over

Cause I keep fuckin up the count

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep on startin over

Cause I keep fuckin up the count

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

Got my foreign drop top

Parked in front of yo bitch house

I’m headin to the trap

Just came from out yo bitch mouth

I’m fresh as fuck

I’m high as hell

Just smoked about a ounce

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep rollin out the pound

I keep nothin but real ones round me

Turn my hood to kush county

AKA Castalia

I pay her rent

And she hold my sack

Nigga, that’s a favor for a favor

You can have them bitches

I just want the stacks

Lil nigga came up from shit

Somedays I just sit and reminisce

Who was fuckin with me back then?

Who was fuckin with me back when?

Back when my momma and my daddy was smokin

When a young nigga was fucked up

And hopeless

They don’t like this shit

And I know it

Fuck ‘em

Went and bought another Rollie

Got a pocket full of guacamole

I got nothin but designer on me

Two hundred thow worth of bling

Glowin

If it ain’t raw

I ain’t even pourin

If it ain’t bout money

I ain’t even goin

You already know what I’m on

San Fransisco cookies got me stoned

Pick up the paper and I’m gone

I keep on startin over

Cause I keep fuckin up the count

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep on startin over

Cause I keep fuckin up the count

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

Got my foreign drop top

Parked in front of yo bitch house

I’m headin to the trap

Just came from out yo bitch mouth

I’m fresh as fuck

I’m high as hell

Just smoked about a ounce

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep blowin money

I keep rollin up weed

In the strip club, throwin money

All these niggas say they real

But most of ‘em the fakest

Two labels offered me two milli

But I didn’t take it

I’m chillin

I’m good

I’m straight

These rappers, they broke

I’m paid

Codeine in my pink lemonade

Givenchy my attire today

For my niggas, I go out of my way

Pussy nigga move up out of my way

I had to go hard for this shit

Nigga, I put my heart in this shit

Never gave my heart to a bitch

I won’t even argue with a bitch

Some of these bitches more realer than these niggas

Back seat of the Bentley

The choppa hold bout 50

In and out the city

Yo bitch said she missed me

I keep on startin over

Cause I keep fuckin up the count

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

I keep on startin over

Cause I keep fuckin up the count

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count

Got my foreign drop top

Parked in front of yo bitch house

I’m headin to the trap

Just came from out yo bitch mouth

I’m fresh as fuck

I’m high as hell

Just smoked about a ounce

I’m steady startin over

I keep fuckin up the count