Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Countdown, artist - T.I.. Date of issue: 28.11.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Countdown |
| Ay, what it is, the king back in the buildin' |
| Still stackin' and buildin', you still rappin' to children |
| Jeopardizin' your deals, caught up buyin' your wheels |
| Like its back when we was little and its still time to kill |
| Quit displayin' your skills, way underpayin' bills |
| Spend a day in the Ville, on how you saying you real |
| Niggas could never live how I live, you ain’t deservin' |
| My lifestyle’s urban, never met me in person |
| Just my bread suburban, in a red suburban |
| On 24's, 20 hoes giving head, I’m swervin' |
| Fuck boys pissed they pants, scared nervous |
| I’m shell-shocked, black eye, like I been in the service |
| Clean, cut, and preserved, but I told George Gervin |
| The closest thing your ho seen, in picture perfect |
| The rolls gold king, my ring tight as a virgin (???) |
| The dream I stop 'fore I seen the top (nigga) |
| I treat the beats like the streets, on em I do what I want to |
| I ain’t gotta confront you, I’ll kill if I want to |
| Roam amongst monsters, kill homes and front you |
| That lil nigga swearin' he bad, eat him for lunch too |
| Fuck you niggas, Dominique slam dunk you |
| Niggas sucka punch down one of you niggas |
| I was being nice at first, now I’m runnin' through niggas |
| Whole crews, not just one or two niggas |
| Cuz you ain’t representin' the south, you just embarassin' |
| See you on t.v. |
| in New York, them niggas laughin' |
| The reason why D.J.'s ain’t have a clue I was fabulous |
| Now days not playin' my record well, hell its hazardous |
| All this cussin' for some loud discussions, outta my character |
| Bussin' these niggas melons, and threatenin' all of they managers |
| P.$.C.'s Atlanta, so how you playin' and handlin' |
| Gorillas with bananas without playin' and banishin' |
| King of the south, it was said once then |
| Took a while to comprehend, that all sunk in |
| On the low deal a mil, I ain’t done come again |
| Room dead, scene fled, 'fore the feds runnin' in |
| Comin' live from the Terra-Dome |
| Shinin' lights on niggas who got they skirts on tight with mascara on |
| All I have ever known, is 28 in the zone |
| Gimme a day and its gone, a brick of yeh and its on |
| You have neva known, me to run |
| 'Less I’m gunnin' at niggas domes |
| And runnin' them out they own |
| Territory, every story gotta flipside to it |
| And your disc ain’t shit unless the click ride to it |
| And I’mma show you how the Westside do it |
| In the A, not Cali, bank heads, (???) valley |
| Every crack and every alley sellin' crack |
| And every time diggin' hairier |
| Every Kim, Sue, Sally, til I tally up |
| A big enough knot to buy me a yacht |
| So then my pistols and my partnas really all that I got |
| I’m not, playin' at all, I’m sprayin' 'em all |
| This K’ll chop 'em down to size, cuz they say that I’m small man |
| Pussycats can’t worry the dog |
| Keep throwin' stones at the throne, I’mma bury you all man |
| Know, you faggot niggas hate that I’m ballin' |
| Makin' 30k a day and blow it all at the mall, and man I |
| Can’t relate to what you rap on stage, nigga |
| Cuz I been sellin' yeh since I was Bow Wow’s age nigga |
| Hear my daddy and my cousin talkin' to me from the grave |
| And all they say is «Young nigga get paid!» |