Numbers Challenge lyrics
by Gallery Provence
[Intro]
Oh my God, I love you so much, Joey, oh my God
Listen up class today we have a special guest
His name is Joey Trap, he's gonna be teaching you numbers
Cali Baset Beats
Okay
[Verse]
One lick, one house, mad bricks
Two rats, two opp n*ggas, both snitch
Three guns, three bullets in it, bet I won't miss
Four bad b*tches finna suck me and I won't kiss
5-0, time up, you missed yo' chance
She suck di*k and she use both hands
Six new pairs of them Loubs like I stepped in paint
b*tch been a fan of me, seen me and she bout to faint
She hit me up and ask me if I love her, what you think?
Molly in my codeine, I'ma turn up off this drink
I remember posted grandma's house, was drinking out the sink
Now I got a lot of Fiji water, diamonds on this link, ayy
Seven n*ggas rollin' with that Glizzy just to throw clips
We up in a Masi bet your girl gon suck the whole di*k
Feel like KG Smokey, all these b*tches with me so thick
Eight about to pull up, hit that motherf*ckin' old lick
Nine hold nine, ten times ten, ayy
My b*tch bad and she brought friends
Back to one n*gga chillin' in his house by himself
He was talking hella sh*t, that boy run out his mouth
Only two n*ggas pulled up with two hammers out
Now he's three outta luck 'cause them three bullets out
I got four b*tches with me, baby girl, I'll never love you
The five times I said I was in love was just to f*ck you
I know it's not your fault, but I don't think I'd ever trust you
I'm in a Maserati, not a Honda, bro, I'll dust you
Six new Rollies, n*ggas don't know me
Hardest spitter ever, n*gga, where the f*ck my trophy?
Got retro Jordan 7s, is you really rocking Kobes?
Put eight up on some white, a n*gga feeling like I'm Tony
Nine up on a watch, I guess that sh*t was for the low, B
She said she wanna see the diamonds dance, I said, "Foshodie"
I keep it ten times ten times ten, that's a rack, boy
If you just listened close enough, you heard the numbers stack, boy
So this the number challenge, if you hit it, you can rap, boy
But no one touching this one, that's a mutherf*ckin' fact, boy
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
Nine and ten boy don't make my MAC-11 spray
12, f*ck 12, I don't f*ck with police anyways
Thirteen lost, boy, I'm dropping bands like everyday
Fourteen grams smell like sour mixed with lemonade
Said that she wanna cuff me, I don't never take her on a date
[Outro]
b*tch
Man, f*ck this class, y'all n*ggas don't pay attention