Ms. Jade - Count It OffLyrics

[Ms. Jade] You best come on, get that ass swung on When dem thags load on, nig-gas best hold on Make sure it's stick so Ricky ain't droppin' Mickeys My bitches puts on them quickies, and skirts gets the itchy Pimpin' this game quickly, and brody and niggas quit me For cat that talk iffy, get swung on like K. Griffey They spit willie, though half of the bitches feel me The other half is trashed, 'cause words could never kill me I got this thick, it's ridiculous how I switch shit Look who I'm with, 215 and Timbaland, bitch Whether it's friend or foe, Heiniken, Verde, Cris or Moe I'm stackin' decimals, stoops, steps and best of yous I write mine, like mine, now I gotta spark All bite, no bark, play my damn part I get inside you, show you how Philly bitches do Pimp you, then I'll get rid of you, I'll shit on your whole crew [Chorus, Ms. Jade] Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Hey you, blow your whistle Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Hey you, blow your whistle Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Hey you, blow your whistle Now let me count it off Now let me count it off Now let me count it off [Ms. Jade] I know it's rare, but niggas they feel me everywhere I'm from the land of white tees, Vickie's and Roca-Wear NY guys spit at cats, do-rags Pop it in turn it up, bang my shit in they Jags I got dem niggas in LA crip walkin' in the truck Atlanta, down south bamma's, you know they get it crunk Now I'ma float on, roll me somethin' to smoke on You hope I go away, continue to get your hope on Rap game, regardless I stack change the same affect as the game Ms. Jade is tha mutha-f-in' name I got a L-O-C-K down the freeway, BK back up to Philly Won't stop 'til they kill me I get it done, rap chicks see me and run Only mixin' coke with the rum Ain't scared, niggas be bums You want to see me, beats fuck up ya hooptie Suburbans, Benz or the two seats Major numbers the first week [Chorus + Jay-z] [Jay-Z] Uh, come on with it, get down with it Uh, come on with it, get down with it Yea, it's young Vito, voice of the young people Roc C-E-O, hot hits for the P-O I'm so trill, the wood pandlin', handlin' meals Twenty inch jumpers from standin' on my wheels They can't understand it, god damnit, he's ill Everytime I drive, gotta prescribe 'em for panic pills I'm gigantic, the Titanic would never sink Even with the band playin', before that happend, that man sprayin' (BUCK!) They all fifteens, glocks and tecs AK's will pop, I bring ya all out the closet, girls Niggas is homos really, but when they smokin' on purple They get loco, but you know I know the drilly It's for these positions, that's why I keep the biscuits You ain't Tony Sopranno, you pussy, sleep with the fishes You know I'm reppin from that 7-1-8 Shots to you f-in' son, class over, lesson's done HOV'!!! [Chorus]