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4pf freestyle - goldenboy countup lyrics

[intro]
turn me up a lil’ bit in these speaker headphones
(reuel, stop playin’ with these n*ggas)
golden
son (countup)
yeah
got that sh*t on me, n*gga, uh, uh
big chicken sh*t, n*gga, you know what i’m sayin’?
got that sh*t on me, n*gga
you know what i’m sayin’? i made that sh*t for them real trap n*ggas, you know what i’m sayin’?
sh*t, workin’ n*ggas too, n*gga, we saved that sh*t up, sh*t on a n*gga, you know what i’m sayin’?
visitin’ them strip clubs and b*tches out there scammin’ and sh*t, you know what i’m sayin’? ayy

[verse]
uh, golden, you got four pockets full and never met baby?
standin’ over the stove, n*gga, workin’ on a foreign baby
calm down, n*gga, you just mad i hit your main lady
hundred p’s, two thousand apiece, you just made eighty
n*gga, i spend a thousand off today, i ain’t no cheap n*gga
you bettеr have your stick when you goin’ to meet them creep n*ggas
goldеn bougie than a b*tch, double c’s on my feet, n*gga
i get one scuff, now double g’s on my feet, n*gga (ayy, uh)
cappin’*ass n*gga on the ‘gram talkin’ big money
i’ll give that n*gga a hundred dollars, he ain’t seen money
molly santan, really bring you billie jean money
when you get the ball, you get mad, kareem money
golden, why these n*ggas talkin’ down on you to these hoes?
i told her tell that petty*ass n*gga to take out them goals
n*gga, you’ve been rappin’ thirty years makin’ two a show?
the streets know your net worth, n*gga, they really worth the pope
ayy, now who he talkin’ ’bout?
if them christian dior shoes fit, n*gga, you better walk it out
b*tch, i’m from the d, if we beef, we can’t talk it out
last tape the picture, matter fact, cuh, crop him out
how the f*ck that n*gga got his diamonds off of street money?
cuh, that’s a hundred racks in blues, i really peep money
plug told me save ten thousand, that’s some free money
i just left the doctor, got some b’s and some d’s money
golden had his fork in his bowl when he whip the glass
composition book, was writtin’ routes but i was sellin’ gas
sixteen, pulled up in a jag’ when i was goin’ to class
golden, you was sittin’ in the class but now i teach the class
i just spent a pound for my son new chain, n*gga
golden, he gon’ wrap his ass off, i don’t sane, n*gga
you can’t have a million dollars cash, you still a lame n*gga
i kinda was a kingpin before i got this fame, n*gga (ayy, hold up, uh)
that n*gga for real, though
i ain’t sprinklin’ sh*t on my sh*t, n*gga, this real dope
unc’ say he got a nosebleed, this that real coke
she faker than a b*tch, but she actin’ like a real ho
n*gga, golden

- goldenboy countup lyrics

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