On the way home, someones got to give in, it's so useless, to drag it out this long, take your position baby, the opposition of me, because there's
season If you got popped five times You breathing for a reason Let's put the five tenure plan into progression Before we count our paper Count our
spittin' bars, man, please, don't bother me Once a son, ain't nobody hot for me Ask the moon, ain't a star that's bluff to me The other stars make room
, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Your words so feint they collapsed in your lungs Put some bass in your voice like you snacked on a drum Watch
the fuckin door You see, damn, cause I'm about to scare you ...Okay now I dare you Close your eyes, open up your mouth, and count to ten Don't wanna,
Oh Shannon I might be dreaming' The stars fell down on the factory The cathedrals repeating, the light receding Bells on another day Have you ever seen
8 - Slug] Break these chips down, count your business Ain't nothing free, it's a James Brown Christmas So god bless the underground now and give it To the sound of the drums
Drop the drums here it comes Only got two minutes to bounce, and every second counts Better press, wreck on your tek, here we go, set passed on Moet My
season If you got popped five times You breathing for a reason Let's put the five tenure plan into progression Before we count our paper Count our blessings
{Okay, roll the drums} I wanna girl, I wanna girl who always has the time To send my world and count the stars above I wanna girl, I wanna girl, who
beat 'til they feelin' the heat in the streets Now each one, teach one, reach one, young gun On one, listen to the warrior's drum Beatin' up the block
a fuck about you, like I do. Count the bodies like sheep Count the bodies like sheep Counting bodies like sheep To the rhythm of the war drums Count
If you got popped five times You breathing for a reason Let's put this five, ten year come-up plan in progression Before we count our papers Count our
, 'cause I can see huh, yeah You can't see me, hah Back up in that ass once again With some of Dat Nigga Daz shit Beatin' up on your ear drums with some
colt ya future casket, Ima break a cassette tape and stab you with the plastic, so bleed beautifully. roll up your shirt, strap on a belt, start shootin
they smile and they smile, 'Cause they love to see me run CHORUS Now we're counting stars and counting sand Little feet and little hands We're counting
jungle 'Bout as strong as he can be And that's me, deep in the jungle where the Dog is the one Let me count a gun on the singular drum Dum, ditty, dum
Cause this black-hearted wedding's enough to start a panic We were clean for three days when you were running down the block 11 minutes sober now we're counting
