C.O.U.N.T - DFK3 Intro lyrics

[Intro: DJ Drama?] (Laughing) Trick or treat What y'all want to do first? Trick? OK Uh, the trick's on you, see? You should have never let us in the door, man L.E.P. Bogus Boys & DJ Drama Ah, well, that's the treat too Surprise! (Gangsta) [Chorus: Count] (Yeah, yeah) This ain't Halloween but all my n***as masked up Hundred shot yoppers tear that a** up (k**as) It's a nightmare and I ain't talking Elm Street (Gangsta) Better run that bag when they yell trick or treat (?) (Yeah) It's k**ers at your front door Turned into a haunted house but ain't nowhere to run, no All my n***as vampires, blood-drinking n***as And they at your neck, don't feed the k**ers [Interlude: DJ Drama] Robbery time We're stealing your spot, your spot, and his Give it up (DJ Drama, f** these n***as up) [Chorus: Count] [Verse 1: Moonie] (Yeah, uh) (They named me my CD and state that these n***as save me?) Ain't nowhere to run from this young Wes Craven Ain't no happy ending, just might end up in the basement Horrified, but here go the feature presentation Psycho, running with a a**ault rifle Lurking through the day but catch me creeping through the night though Masked up, looking for them kis like a typo (What's a/This a?) maniac (step along?) in the sideshow Insane Hannibal, motherf**ing animal Wish I could explain it but you'd never understand it though Hundred shot yoppers, guns singing like an opera Said "Don't Feed Da k**az" but you looking like a Whopper 'Fore you make a move, know you dealing with a monster And I'm not stopping 'til every soul conquered This ain't Halloween but it's similar to Mike Myers (We) A bunch of masked up n***as and we got priors [Chorus: Count] (x2) [Verse 2: Count] I'm a vampire, that's why the guys call me Count Drool dripping from my teeth, blood coming out my mouth You think I'm putting fires out when I come around Kicking n***as doors in like their house burning down Let off a couple rounds, make 'em hit the floor Pistol whip 'em, then I duct tape 'em like a brick of 'do The sweetest n***a I ever hit, say I can't pick 'em Home invasion left 'em traumatized like a rape victim Now when you're in your crib, I be stuck in your head Got you checking in your closet, looking up under your bed Scared of your own shadow, so paranoid Got you clenching on your banger every time you hear a noise Catch you gambling in the alley on the back streets Ask you for that money, better run it like a track meet Thought it was sweet so I had to teach him a lesson Poked his a** a hundred times, called it a lethal injection [Chorus: Count] (x2)