Fuckin’ Up the Count Freddie Gibbs

[Intro]
Eight?
Damn, Sarah, look, close your eyes (Yeah)
You working a ground stash, 20 tall pinks
Never fuckin' up the count
Two fiends come up to you and ask for two each
Another one cops three (Yeah) then Bodie hands you off 10 more
But some white guy rolls up in a car
Never fuckin' up the count
Waves you down and pays for the eight
How many vials you got left? (15)
Yeah, yeah, this for my young niggas
How the fuck you able to keep the count right
When you're not able to do the book problem man?
Count be wrong, they’ll fuck you up
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1]
Quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick, ayy nigga
Time to whip these zippers in the kitchen with the same nigga
All I know is selling weed and water, dope and yay nigga
Money on my mind, don't do the crime unless it pay nigga
New 650 Bimmer coupe, I'm fucking in a foreign car
Got diamonds in my Rollie face, I'm bout to cop a Audemar
Top down on a bitch when I ride by, I feel like fuck the law
Got diamonds in my Rollie face, I'm bout to cop an Audemar
My celly steady ringin' for Freddie, where, where your bales at?
Teacher told me go get a job, I said "Where the scale at?"
Told my Cali plug wrap the package up, we can mail that
Teacher told me go get a job, I said, "Where the scale at?"