COUNTUP RMX lyrics

[Verse 1: Afourteen]
Lil b*tch just sit down
We took off fast (uh)
Whatchu gone do about all that? (ay)
Lil b*tch you ain't even in the trap
All my homies ticked up yeah, we b*tch we got this strap (uh, yuh)
Car is fast
SRT I'm in that sh*t you know its gas (uh)
And the backseat look like I got bangalore (uh)
b*tches on me, b*tches on my di*k-galore (yuh)
b*tch I got my, money my b*tch up two floors (yuh)
My b*tch jump off roof, you cannot see that whore (yuh)
And my b*tch so bad I'm rockin' double whores (huh, yuh)
In the coupe that b*tch got double doors (yeah)
b*tch I'm high as f*ck, I feel like Dumbledore (yuh, uh)
Take my time when I move state to state (yuh)
That b*tch suck me up like she ain't got no plate (huh)
I'ma di*k that b*tch, that body got no rack (huh, huh, yuh, yuh)
You ain't got no cake
My b*tch bad and she got a K (uh)
X and percy b*tch call that a doublе date

[Verse 2: EDDISON]
(Eddison)
My n*gga kick in the door, I told his ass don't get caught up
Thеm boys keep saying they got money but they know they not rich as us
Car keys? What's that?
My car got no keys, wait that's a truck
I got sick of eatin' all them Xans, I had to put some in my cup
I told that b*tch after she done suckin' all on my di*k have some good luck
Yeah she so up, b*tch we play golf, I feel so up like Donald Trump (edd)
Said we gon' push up like so what, that's just a workout for us
In my SRT bumpin' DS2
Say she like Prada, I said me too
We flirt so much, can't even see you
Can't have one b*tch, I need at least two
Droppin' this heat, I'm drivin' a Porche
She ridin' the di*k like she ridin' a Coupe
I just count up 3 hunnids, I'm thumbin' em through
If that boy run up on me I know just what to do (shoot)
When I blow that Drac' make sure I hit his face
No face, ain't no case, they threw the Ks away
My n*gga hit his thang out in broad day
f*ck her once then do that b*tch away
I got n*ggas gettin' away too much money, I can't even say
I f*ck this b*tch on my IG, I see her liking my page
I make sure my b*tch like b*tches, I make sure my b*tch is gay
I popped a Xan, I don't remember the stain I hit, I heard that sh*t insane
In the SRT, swerve lane on lane on lane on lane on lane on lane
Sippin' on wok, wok, wok, wok, wok, we don't sip green we sip purple rain
Jump in that b*tch, Jump in that b*tch, jumpin that b*tch, b*tch gimmie brain
I pop an X and then a perc
I'm on the verge of crashin' a plane
We get geeked too much
We is not the same
(I just mixed a Xan with percy drank I can't feel my face)
[Verse 3: Christ Dillinger]
[?]
My n*gga got hit in the back
When I cop that S-Class, It's gon be all black
I'm a wavy n*gga, I got it, I spend it
Bought that sh*t with cash, I do with no credit
With all this Rick, a n*gga look silly
You postin' your Spotify wrapped, it's not even a milli
Run up on me and my n*ggas gon blow
Don't die for me n*gga you know that's my choice
Got the double C case when I rock 'round the city
And I'm rockin' so much that I look like I'm Drizzy
You worried 'bout your [?], silly
Up for his life, I might run up a milli
Just got so much green, that sh*t makin' you dizzy
I can't buy a ring for my b*tch, 'cause she picky
I'm high as f*ck, I'm seeing stars
Double ice in my cup and I'm booted to Mars
A rich n*gga I can't go in a bar
Your girl's on the whip look like a cigar
Got the double C case when I hop out the car
Got the new Yeezy, sh*t from the old
We be exposin' em
Look at my neck and wrists they frozen
I be so drippy It look like I'm posin'
I pull in the SRT
And told, now we rollin'
Pull up in a Benz
I can't ride in no Acura
Flippin' no work
I ain't flippin' no spatula
Step to us
And my n*ggas won't clap you
My n*ggas be shootin'
Like we out in Africa
[Verse 4: Bruhmanegod]
Liquid [?] I love my drug problem
I'm in a K-hole, is this sane to you?

f*ck that SRT
I'm in the 18-wheeler, man
I ain't even need no keys
b*tch I'm richer than Ceelo Green
Nah, you know I'm just lyin'
If any my friends ever said he don't kick it with broke boys
They was lyin'
Look at my check
And I'm countin' up
Look at my bags was 89
Money don't make you rich
I kick it with dope boys all the time
Saw I never even got no car
Barely 21, I still don't even know how to drive
Drop the seat to the SRT
We ain't come back alive (Yeah!)
Your bro went to [?] on me
If he don't, we almost died
Oh well, that's alright
Posted with a .5

[Outro: Bruhmanegod]
I count every second, and that's why I say count up
I count every second, and that's why I say count up
It don't matter how much I count up, it ain't enough
It ain't enough, it ain't enough, no