(Add it up. Shit ain't no game n***a. Cutthroat money gang n***a.)

[Hook: Joey Fatts]
Fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
My momma gon' wild out
She catch me trapping out her house
But now I'm fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
Started with an ounce
Now we got dough in large amounts
But now I'm fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
My momma gon' wild out
She catch me trapping out her house
But now I'm fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
Started with an ounce
Now we got dough in large amounts

[Verse 1: Joey Fatts]
Outchea' tryna' get it bitch, my momma getting old
Way before I went to school I learned to work the stove
By the time I turned sixteen my whip game was cold
Counting fifty thousand then Tony with them zones
Trapping out the house, fucking on these hoes
They love to run their mouth, you gotta' stay away from those
Watch out for them n***as hating, calling you they bro
Plotting on your dough, on the low them n***as foes
I'm fucking up the, fucking up the, fucking up the count
Bitch I'm a hustler n***as rarely see me drought
Bricks in the attic, Ks in the couch
All we talk is money so they know what we about
If they coming for me then we chopping n***as out
Getting over on me that's some shit I highly doubt
Pulling off the lot in some shit I can't pronounce
You n***as call it flexing I'm just fucking up the count
[Hook: Joey Fatts]
Fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
My momma gon' wild out
She catch me trapping out her house
But now I'm fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
Started with an ounce
Now we got dough in large amounts
But now I'm fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
My momma gon' wild out
She catch me trapping out her house
But now I'm fucking up the count
Fucking up the count
Started with an ounce
Now we got dough in large amounts