Kount Ya Hat Lyrics – Rylo Rodriguez, Veeze

[Verse 1: Rylo Rodriguez]
They done hit the bulletproof fifteen times and it ain’t budged
They played the trap, say he ran it up off of cases and green mud
Twin asked for some of my lean, told ’em break a leg like Nick Chubbs
Stacking up bread off of prostitution, made her nose nub
I took a ho’ to Mcdees like I’m Brorilla
Coulda ‘bought a crib for a hundred my neck, I went to (??), n!gga
I got a crib on the top of shoulders, I ain’t Jaden Smith
I love a body, but messed up my (??) so bad, very ill
She said the last n!gga shoes wasn’t (??) or Chanel
Oh my third seal this week, I hang ’round killer whales
Fu*k n!gga stepped on thе mud, I had to stop lil’ bruh from stripping his ass

Go tie a shirt on your face and poke ‘еm up ’cause he’s a rat
I love my b!tch more than my accountant, I ’bout to get her tatted
I gave her a flower like the AMG, twin, count ya’ hat

[Chorus: Rylo Rodriguez & Veeze]
Lil’ n!gga, count ya’ hat, killer, killer, you take his hats
Ask the streets how many bodies she got, count ya’ hat
(??) pour up what I spend on syrup, this money cost a scat
N!gga, I really got diehard fans, I am Cactus Jack
Yeah, count ya’ hat, pu*sy ass nothing n!gga count ya’ hat
Yeah, count ya’ hat, lil’ ass n!gga need count ya’ hat
Yeah, count ya’ Patek, rich ass n!gga need count ya’ patek
Every cross a rack on a chrome jean, need count ya’ pack
(??) that n!gga, n!gga, I went Maybach, like Gunplay
It’s spacious in here, I can hear the backflip like Gervonta (Hey, watch this)

[Verse 2: Veeze]
I never be playing security, I got smackers with me at the Pistons game
I fu*king this cutie, she have no clout, I call her a baddie lame
The fu*k is you stepping, you seen me at cousin trap and you ran from me
I fu*ked her and told her I wanted her friend and she didn’t even gatekeep
These n!ggas be telling on who? They got the phone, they fed, they’re real police
Know we not opps lil’ n!gga, just ask for a verse, politely (Say please)
These n!ggas my son for real, I might get the Porsche with the car seat
I watch him talk to the feds for an hour, like when do his lord speak?

I’m having the real check, they paying two mil’ for the tracklist
I may just crop me a (??) so deep, she came back to swim in the messy
I overly pop, the reason the movie theaters been going out of business
I trapped since I was a youngan and didn’t even know it was illegal til’ my mama said it
I’m overly jackass, you’re mad b!tch, go cry then
He shot with his eyes closed, that was a mistake, we on Compton
Fu*k n!gga get spin and then get hit then gon’ on and faked your death
These n!ggas so goofy, they pass out the money and pay for a fake hit
If I ever get robbed, someone gon’ die, or I can’t even rap again
I get out on feet, if you hit a kid, you know we don’t count ’em
Lil’ n!gga, count ya’ hat, lil’ n!gga count ya’ hat
I got her Chanel with the fur bag, it wasn’t even winter yet
Lil’ n!gga, count ya’ hat, lil’ n!gga count ya’ hat
I ain’t even fu*k, I got the hat, you ain’t beat, ya’ mad
You got a bank with a body bag, n!gga I-