Numbers

One, two, three, four, five Six, seven nine, ten, 11, 12 Put a one on it, threw the testers out at noon One o'clock friends coming back like, "Nigga, give me two" PlayStation 3 serving knocks at the Dough friends Know I got Nick Steady coming up with both Five, four, T, five, seven, five jeans In the spot serving rocks thinking bout a six speed Groose a seven up with a 7-mile slug Coney off a 8-mile steel hungry ass fuck Nine on my waist banging past a knife preset Top ten zone ain't new but look decent Niggas on that weak shit, so I keep a weapon You fuck wth Danny Brown, turn this bitch to 9-11 Riding on the east side heater on the seat Linwood nigga got love for 12th Street Nigga fuck the hook, never closing up shop Drill three school zone, schoolhouse rock Make you kiss the heater, fuck what you heard If it ain't about numbers, then it ain't about words Let's go! One, two, three, four, five Six, seven nine, ten, 11, 12 If one nigga trip, two of y'all getting knocked out Last nigga flip got three of his teeth knocked out Baby mama screaming like, "What you fighting for?" Introduce the five fingers when his ass met the floor Six million ways to die, two-seven Eight in a revolver nine steps from heaven Ten on three watch it forward to 11 12s banging in a cutty, hustle like a Mexican Heart like a crack baby, fresh out the cross the house He the cock looking for the one that turned his mama out What a thug about 38 snub boat Get locked, don't snitch, child hog rub 'bout We had bitches blowing by the boat One bag rats on your head like Rambo One nigga make the four-four blow This is it Luchini like Camp Low (one, two, three, four, five, six, seven nine, ten, 11, 12)