mack, I caught a black and blue from the trouble at I stash ones, shoot a legal guns family Who on the run, did the felony counts, and murder one A hustle
about you, like I do. Count the bodies like sheep Count the bodies like sheep Counting bodies like sheep To the rhythm of the war drums Count the bodies
drives a Mustang, she lets her hair hang She dresses like a fish, makes you look and wish Puts you in a trance, body built to dance Disco queen, twistin
hastened through snow lit red Guests espied from the garret ledge Great gloomy mirror tell her face She will out blind them all That heavenly bodies
your sister by her shirt Bury her in the dirt, wait for you moms to get home from work Id a killed so many M.C's I cant count the number Niggas writin
Let Me Count The Ways How Do I Love Thee Let Me Count The Ways Reality Is Ours To Create Fantasy Is Ours To Mold Dream My Love Dream With My Body And
body in the grass at the Easter Egg Hunt every bid up out the rose comin outta the ziplock for round niggas that dont give a fuck about hip hop you can count
more in his assault upon the mountain. Little man, his youth a fountain. Overdrafted and still counting. Vernacular, verbose; an attempt at getting close
runs the whole staff, we count mad for seen bad We've seen a half a milli dashin out there on the Queens half Three major players gettin papers by the
2] - | I like this, yeah this is the remix | Ohhh, anything you want I'm gonna give it to you girl, Along aside your body, make you open up your world
don't need your worthless mortal body You don't need your worthless mortal body You don't need your worthless mortal body Belief is just a pitiful noose
rising for the kind of man For the kind of man Moon in Mercury Moon in Mercury Queen of the depths in dust portrayed The broken heart never hesitate Count
ground, no We can be bigger than my old habits Over my dead body but still If I am awake in the morning We'll be royal in the afternoon You'll be the Queen
two still counts Gonna make it count Gonna make it count Gonna oh oh Thirty-two's still a goddamn number Thirty two still counts Gonna make it count Gonna make it count
queen size bed sheets. you left your reds hat in the back seat of mom's volvo. i know it's hard for a single person to fold queen size bed sheets.
who had a Queen want him I usually deserve hotels, this one's the gift, slick On our eye-to-eye contact, body movement, all on the grind A lady's starin
with my coochie counting my man's mad lucci while he was up inside some hoochie's loose piece I signed the checks and, I counted out the cash Wasn't saving
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yeah, yo, yeah, yo [Ghostface Killah:] Catch me on yo' brochure with beachballs, at least three whores Head wop Queens know how to