It's a roller coaster What goes up might take us upside down Life ain't a merry go round Roller coaster Countdown to here we go Hold on tight, slide a little closer Up so high stars are on our shoulders Time fly's by, don't close your eyes

Dope boy, dope boy, dope boy, nigga (yeah) Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, run it up Got a bitch to get the bread 'cause the bank playin' Dope boy, count, count, dope boy, count, count (yeah) That's when I have some cool water that I whip slow

Round and round and round and round we go Why we can't be satisfied I don't know Some folks livin' in the country can't wait to get in their pickup trucks and go to town There's people livin' in a penthouse dying to get out in the sticks and ride around

'Cause I ain't never seen a country boy with tires on his truck this high I said climb on up but honey watch the cup That I'm spitting my dip inside and hold on tight 'Cause it's gonna be wilder than any eight second ride Well I said hey girl what's your

Pretty girls drinkin' tall boys Watchin' pretty girls drinkin' tall boys Swingin' their hips to a country song Silver cans up in the air Ain't nothin' like gettin' right Chasing a buzz with a cold Bud Light 'Bout pretty girls drinkin' There ain't much to

Run up them racks I'm doin' it Run up them racks I'm doin' it, nigga If Young Metro don't trust you I'm gon' shoot you Countin' hunnits, yeah nigga Diamonds froze, chill nigga I went platinum independent then I signed my deal, nigga Young nigga, 17, all

I don't know why you don't take me downtown anymore Talk it up and give me the go round round like a good time tease I'm only counting on your cancellation When I should be counting on you at my door Did you forget about how we went around Well, all the

This that Juelz Santana, rockin' them Gucci bandanas In the war zone with the hittas I'ma pop up on you in the latest Count my racks up, take a little dope Get my pistol, I don't trust these folk I fuck with shawty 'cause she don't post (Post, post)

Uh oh, fresh out the bed Uh oh, count up the deads You niggas in trouble (niggas in trouble) You niggas in trouble No forreal, no cap, my money long like anacondas If you think about runnin' with that then you in trouble Fresh out, outta the bed, count

Goodness knows You're my honeysuckle rose Don't buy sugar You just have to touch my cup You're my sugar When I'm taking sips from your tasty lips Seems the honey fairly drips Every honey bee fills with jealousy When they see you out with me