Count on My Love

Yo (yeah)
Yo (yeah)

I don't need drama class, I got the block for that
Plus I know how to act, he split the pile with the knife from his back
Word to me, bro, I thank you for that
Hunnid racks, no tax'll make me tilt my hat
Need all sixteen switches just to lower my nutsack
Don't cry, my nigga, just bust back
I hit your PayPal through the rough patch
You drunk? Then lay the drum track
Frontal got my lungs black, but still, if niggas pass, I gotta touch that

Spliff hot as the sun, just look at what I've become
Strong arms, hell, this Uzi weighs a fucking ton
And still, it ain't as heavy as my conscience, son
I'm up early writing hustler poems, the hustler's poem
Day and a half, I blew a zone on my own
I ain't even pay the bill on my phone
I'm an asshole, depend on who you ask, though
My only motivation is the cash, bro

I told God, if it's real, show a nigga one sign
I looked up and seen the California sunshine
I lit my roach, sip some leftover plum wine
'Cause bossing up is in my bloodline
One time is usually all you get
Then it's dead or death, come correct
It's what you willing to accept
In the end, it's no friends, just a bang before the darkness
Talk about catharsis, I know that I'll be good regardless

'Cause again, in the end, I'm your man tough
Long walks down the ave, big snorkel zipped up
It's them against us, I'm writing until the casket shut
Lord knows that I ain't had enough