A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Masta Ace

"Count 'Em Up"

[Intro]
How many brothers do I know on Rikers Island?
One, two, three, four, five (Yeah)
Count 'em up son
Count 'em up son
One, two, three, I'm losing count
One, two, three, four, five, count 'em up son


[Verse 1: Masta Ace]
Yo, they just did a raid in my neighborhood
Guess they running out of field labor
Shaney from 6A, Mikey from 6B
Cells right next to each other so they still neighbors
If you're selling loosies or you're smoking weed
They send you off to college, they got everything you need
Three square meals and a place to bathe
Numbers on the rise, an entire race of slaves
Cops like recruiters trying to increase enrollment
Forget about that wife that you should be getting old with (Forget it)
Forget about them kids that you should be here to raise (Nah)
Legal aid told you that you could be here for days (Damn)
Didn't want to tell you that you're probably here for years
Look at all the numbers, you're surrounded by your peers
Dudes from your neighbourhood, some you went to school with
Cats you had beef with, other you was cool with (Cool with)
There's so many of us, I mean plenty of us
Cops rolled up, bag like twenty of us
f*ck laws and the probable cause
Search and seizure leave you out of your drawers, yeah (Wow)
Spread your cheeks, bend over, cough (Say what?)
Another false arrest with no remorse (Come on)
And tomorrow it's the same sh*t again
Hard to keep track of all the brothers going in
Count 'em

[Chorus: Masta Ace]
One, two, three, four, five
Count 'em up son
One, two, three, four, five
Count 'em up son

Bodies on the rise and going up some
Cries for all the lives getting stuck son
Count 'em
One, two, three, four, five
Count them up son


[Verse 2: Lil Fame]
They always posted up in my neighborhood (Yeah)
Searching all through my neighbors' goods (C'mon)
f*ck with that little boy, I'ma catch a bid
Now get your f*cking hands off him copper, that's a kid
It was one hot summer day chillin' on the ave
The pig came through, ice grillin' on the ave
He got a death wish, but you know what that's about
Cause you're three, four, five, they gon' lay his ass out, now
Back to the street sh*t (Yeah), goons is goons and (Yeah)
Fools is fools and (Yeah) rules is rules but (What?)
There's principles even if you a sinner
That's the reason most of my people in the pen are ten up
'Cause one day you're up, next day you're down
Covered with a sheet, coppers hit him with a round (Round)
That's why I got a license to ill
And like two, three, four files b*tch I'm licensed to kill
This is everyday life in the 'ville
Get money, get drunk, get high, throw dice in the 'ville
You ain't go'n kill a homie off and talk about me in the interview
"Yo, that's a female cop", Miss Piggy can get it too
One shot's for a crooked cop, raw deal
One more for Commissioner O'Neal (Blam!)
Stop locking us up, stop doing us wrong
We like two, three, four five million strong (Yeah)

[Chorus: Masta Ace]
One, two, three, four, five
Count 'em up son
One, two, three, four, five
Count 'em up son

Bodies on the rise and going up some
Cries for all the lives getting stuck son
Count 'em
One, two, three, four, five
Count them up son


[Outro]
One, two, three, four, five
I'm losing count
No matter what the sum, it's too big of an amount
One, two, three, four, five (One, two, three)
I'm losing count
One, two, three, four, five
No matter what the sum, it's too big of an amount
Yeah

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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