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blac youngsta - count up lyrics

[intro]
yeah

[chorus]
bullsh+t don’t get you nowhere but off in the grave (bullsh+t)
all that gossipin’ ’bout me for the free don’t get you paid (no)
i tossed the b+tch to the side like she was a grenade (she was a grenade)
she making that booty clap like it was a parade (clap, clap)
know n+ggas doin’ life in prison, they count up the days (days)
it’s hot as f+ck on the yard, they work out in the shade (work out in the shade)
walk in that b+tch with a big old chain like flavor flav (woo)
i’m teaching you everything, especially how to get paid (paid)

[verse 1]
teaching you everything, can’t go out likе no b+tch (never)
tryna play me likе i’m b+tch+made, you go in a ditch (you go in a ditch)
i’ve been thuggin’ since the fifth grade, i’ve been with the sh+t (yeah)
chopper make you hit the harlem shake and do a split
yeah, i’m the type, p+ss you off, make you mad, get you hit (get you hit)
i’m the type, get a new gun, put a body on the stick (on the stick)
got a lot of sh+t to do, i’m flakin’ out on a b+tch (on a b+tch)
got a lot of b+tches, i’m proud of missin’ out on a fl!ck (woo)
i know some young n+ggas that’d k!ll to be rich (that’d k!ll to be rich)
i’m on that young n+gga sh+t, filthy rich, with the sh+t (with the sh+t)
i’m on the block hustlin’, i’m tryna get off a nick (gang, gang)
pulled up with the bullsh+t, bet i turn it to a skit (hrrt)
[chorus]
bullsh+t don’t get you nowhere but off in the grave (bullsh+t)
all that gossipin’ ’bout me for the free don’t get you paid (no)
i tossed the b+tch to the side like she was a grenade (she was a grenade)
she making that booty clap like it was a parade (clap, clap)
know n+ggas doin’ life in prison, they count up the days (days)
it’s hot as f+ck on the yard, they work out in the shade (work out in the shade)
walk in that b+tch with a big old chain like flavor flav (woo)
i’m teaching you everything, especially how to get paid

[verse 2]
i’m teachin’ you everything, no need for goin’ broke (no)
i gotta lead by example and take care of my folks (takin’ care of my folks)
gotta leave the streets alone, give no f+ck if it’s comin’ slow (yeah)
i’ma keep it quiet as f+ck, give no f+ck what they wanna know (f+ck ’em)
tryna calm my young n+ggas down from kickin’ doors
gotta help them young n+ggas wisen up asap because they throwed (throwed)
i’ma tell you now, you don’t wanna get caught cookin’ on a stove (cookin’ on that stove)
they give you life, you get caught with your hand off in that bowl (yeah)
young n+gga, he r+t+rded, all he know is take a soul (all he know is take a soul)
young n+gga pop out with the sh+t like he in a commode (he in a commode)
he takin’ a lunch break ‘fore he pick up a load (he pick up a load)
you know it costs money when you runnin’ through the tolls

- blac youngsta lyrics

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