Joey Trap - Numbers Challenge lyrics

Oh my God, I love you so much, Joey
Oh my God
Listen up class today we have a special guest
His name is Joey Trap
He's gonna be teaching you numbers
Cali Baset Beats okay

One lick, one house, mad bricks
Two rats, two opp niggas, both snitch
Three guns, three bullets in it
Bet I won't miss
Four bad bitches finna suck me
And I won't kiss
5-0, time up, you missed yo' chance
She suck dick and she use both hands
Six new pairs of them Loubs
Like I stepped in paint
Bitch been a fan of me
Seen me and she bout to faint
She hit me up and ask me if I love her
What you think? Molly in my codeine
I'ma turn up off this drink
I remember posted grandma's house
Was drinking out the sink
Now I got a lot of Fiji
Water, diamonds on this link, ayy
Seven niggas rollin' with that Glizzy
Just to throw clips we up in a Masi bet your
Girl gon suck the whole dick
Feel like KG Smokey
All these bitches with me so thick
Eight about to pull up
Hit that motherfuckin' old lick
Nine hold nine, ten times ten, ayy
My bitch bad and she brought friends
Back to one nigga chillin' in
His house by himself
He was talking hella shit
That boy run out his mouth
Only two niggas pulled up
With two hammers out
Now he's three outta luck 'cause
Them three bullets out
I got four bitches with me, baby girl
I'll never love you
The five times I said I was in
Love was just to fuck you
I know it's not your fault
But I don't think I'd ever trust you
I'm in a Maserati, not a Honda, bro
I'll dust you
Six new Rollies, niggas don't know me
Hardest spitter ever, nigga
Where the fuck my trophy?
Got retro Jordan 7s
Is you really rocking Kobes?
Put eight up on some white
A nigga feeling like I'm Tony
Nine up on a watch, I guess
That shit was for the low, b
She said she wanna see the
Diamonds dance, I said, "Foshodie"
I keep it ten times ten
Times ten, that's a rack, boy
If you just listened close enough
You heard the numbers stack, boy
So this the number challenge, if you
Hit it, you can rap, boy
But no one touching this one
That's a mutherfuckin' fact, boy
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven
Eight
Nine and ten boy don't make my MAC-11 spray
12, fuck 12, I don't fuck with police anyways
Thirteen lost, boy
I'm dropping bands like everyday
Fourteen grams smell like sour
Mixed with lemonade
Said that she wanna cuff me
I don't never take her on a date

Bitch man, fuck this class
Y'all niggas don't pay attention