Numbers

[Verse 1: Payroll] I’m in a 550, countin’ my cash 20 in my lap, another 50 in the stash 8 for the bow’s. 25 for the slabs. Hit the mall and buy whatever I can grab Tru’s stuffed with rubber bands. Stakes courtesy of my trap I’m trying to count it in the coupe; I think I need 2 laps Look at the fit you can tell that I move packs I fucked a lot of bad hoes and knocked down a few rats Niggas want to mug cause my belt and my shoes match The Vette jet black and you know that the shoes match Pull up in a spaceship, the hoes like “who that” Those fake chains popular but we don’t do that We throw 10 carrots in one charm, 20 tattoos on one arm Fit 30 in one car, spent 10 in one bar 100 round clips if these bitch niggas want war Call up the plug tell him “spend em I need more” You know I’m all out. We can buy through a drought I call shots from my couch. Garbage bags full of stacks. I couldn’t tell you the amount Not cause I’m counting slow but it’s way too much to count [Hook] My trap doing numbers; My phone doing numbers Sell it for the high; get it for a low number On the back of the coupe of you niggas see is numbers You say you need some work. Nigga you the number All I talk is numbers All I know is numbers [Verse 2: Mack Nickles] My spot doing numbers; my block doing numbers I ain’t gone lie; I dun shitted 12 summers I been getting money so they calling me a vet What I paid for the piece I could of cashed out a Vette When the bows got slow I ain’t slack on the bils I hit the stash; spent 60 racks on the pills Mack ain’t a slacker. I’m a Ziploc packer Fashionista , hushy jeans, Louis sneakers I put you on last week, damn you moving slow boy You ain’t really getting cheese. You don’t fuck with Doughboys To be honest; I can see you low boy Dude you need to chill out. You better ask Lo boy These ain’t lies; I spit the truth. $650 for the belt, yea receipts tell the truth I get it for the low but I sell it for a high number Only way I fall off, they gotta put a kid under [Hook] [Verse 3: HBK] Flying down Six, switch whips to the 6, 16 in the clip that’s wishing a nigga a trip Swooped up a bitch, and we about to pop a fifth Everytime I drop a whip she calling to mop a dick She call me number 2 cause she know that I’m the shit She glanced at my wrist, she asked if I’m selling bricks You know what it 2676 I’m on seven deuce where nigga getting rich, hitting licks Call up the plug; nigga in his late 30’s I'mma be there 8:30 to pick up 8 birdies I got it bitch; you heard me Nextel service need work nigga chirp me You broke niggas irk me Posted on the block when I turned 17. Bows of kush for 7 G’s. Knots in my Seven Jeans Keep a spot with some hoes Got em taking of the jo’s Getting loose for my bro’s Cause we making all pros [Hook] [Verse 4: Doughboy Roc] Fuck them other niggas, I’m just trying to get paid Rock a crispy as Taper; I don’t fuck with them fades We gettin bread like wonder. All I talk is numbers You get to talking; nickels on yo head (quick numbers) You make your money double but I make my pro’s triple My worker came up short I put his ass in a (unknown word) 24 grams, that’s a whole zip. I can get for the 6. 2 for 60 for the bricks Low key as whip when I’m trafficking the work; And If I’m middle manning then I’m taxing on the work Got a couple cell phones, yea I’m known to hit the road Fluffy grey bo’s yea I’m know to get the low AK-47 hold 100 I let that hit blast. All I talk is number, I think I need to teach math Nigga stop lying you “beginners stack” money I got the OT; West Virginia trap money [Hook]