Joell Ortiz

Joell Ortiz - 4,3,2,1

rate me

On a scale of one, two, three, four, five, six, seven

Eight, nine, ten, motherfucker I'm in eleven

I served twelve twelves amongst thirteen buildings

But fourteen grams, oh man I made a killing

On the fifteenth the welfare check dropped

So it popped like the sixteens sitting in my Glock

Seventeen years old with the coliseum fronts

In the back way with like eighteen blunts

It was nineteen, I forgot the year but it was on

Cause dimes went out of style and the twenties came along

Twenty-one dollar E&Js with my crew

Cracks in my ass and the grands are twenty-two

Twenty-three on my jersey, Nikes on my feet

On the twenty-fourth bus tryna write to a beat

Locked the game like twenty-five to life at twenty-six

Twenty-seven gave you +The Brick+, at twenty-eight I give you this nigga

Simple mathematics y'all

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