Missed Count lyrics

[Intro]
Hello?
Woah
Ayy, I’ma call you right back bruh
I’m trynna finish countin this money bruh
You makin me f*ck up bruh
I’ma call you right back bruh
sh*t man
Aye, aye

[Chorus]
I keep on startin over
Cause I keep f*ckin up the count
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
I keep on startin over
Cause I keep f*ckin up the count
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
Got my foreign drop top
Parked in front of yo b*tch house
I’m headin to the trap
Just came from out yo b*tch mouth
I’m fresh as f*ck
I’m high as hell
Just smoked about a ounce
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
[Verse 1]
I keep f*ckin 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
n*gga, that’s a favor for a favor
You can have them b*tches
I just want the stacks
Lil n*gga came up from sh*t
Somedays I just sit and reminisce
Who was f*ckin with me back then?
Who was f*ckin with me back when?
Back when my momma and my daddy was smokin
When a young n*gga was f*cked up
And hopeless
They don’t like this sh*t
And I know it
f*ck ‘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
[Chorus]
I keep on startin over
Cause I keep f*ckin up the count
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
I keep on startin over
Cause I keep f*ckin up the count
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
Got my foreign drop top
Parked in front of yo b*tch house
I’m headin to the trap
Just came from out yo b*tch mouth
I’m fresh as f*ck
I’m high as hell
Just smoked about a ounce
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count

[Verse 2]
I keep f*ckin up the count
I keep blowin money
I keep rollin up weed
In the strip club, throwin money
All these n*ggas 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 n*ggas, I go out of my way
pus*y n*gga move up out of my way
I had to go hard for this sh*t
n*gga, I put my heart in this sh*t
Never gave my heart to a b*tch
I won’t even argue with a b*tch
Some of these b*tches more realer than these n*ggas
Back seat of the Bentley
The choppa hold bout 50
In and out the city
Yo b*tch said she missed me
[Chorus]
I keep on startin over
Cause I keep f*ckin up the count
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
I keep on startin over
Cause I keep f*ckin up the count
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count
Got my foreign drop top
Parked in front of yo b*tch house
I’m headin to the trap
Just came from out yo b*tch mouth
I’m fresh as f*ck
I’m high as hell
Just smoked about a ounce
I’m steady startin over
I keep f*ckin up the count