[Intro] (Upbeat 108 BPM hip-hop soul bounce, bright electric piano stabs, funky bassline, handclap percussion) [Female] (sung, playful and rhythmically precise) One... two... three... four... Count it up, count it up, yeah. Let's see what we really got on the board tonight. [Verse 1 - Female] (Sung) (Punchy drum beat, funk-guitar accents, lively moving groove) Got five missed calls from a guy named Jay, Three new texts saying "have a good day." Two VIP wristbands sitting on the bar, And a valet ticket for a big black car. Check the bank account, yeah, the balance is right, Got a new pair of heels for another big night. I got a long list of numbers I will never even dial, And a million little reasons just to wear my favorite smile. I’m collecting all the moments, stacking up the fun, Counting every victory under the sun. [Pre-Chorus - Female] (Sung) (Brass-like synth accents rise, hand percussion swells, building anticipation) I got the freedom that I wanted, got the keys in my hand, Living out my life just the way that I planned. But looking at the total when the night comes to a close, I start to wonder where all the real feeling goes... [Chorus - Female] (Sung) (High-energy 2006 R&B hook, bright stacked female harmonies, infectious radio bounce) Count it up, one, two, three, four, Count the admirers walking out the door. Count up the nights that I spent on the floor, Still trying to figure out what I’m counting it for! Yeah, count it up, stack it to the sky, I got the freedom, but I’m asking myself why. Attention is easy when you’re running the town, So I’m counting what counts before the beat goes down! [Verse 2 - Female] (Sung) (Fast-moving bouncy beat, deep bass sliding under witty delivery) Now, some nights are gold, yeah, they stay in your mind, And some nights are filler that you leave way behind. Some guys bring the spark, make you laugh till you cry, While others are just pretty faces passing on by. I ain't mad at the journey, I ain't mad at the game, I just don't need a crowd all screaming my name. I used to think that freedom meant doing what I please, Now I think it’s knowing when to set my heart at ease. I’m getting more selective with the time that I spend, 'Cause not every good time has to be a real friend. [Pre-Chorus - Female] (Sung) (Brass-like synth accents rise, hand percussion swells, building anticipation) I got the freedom that I wanted, got the keys in my hand, Living out my life just the way that I planned. But looking at the total when the night comes to a close, I start to wonder where all the real feeling goes... [Chorus - Female] (Sung) (High-energy 2006 R&B hook, bright stacked female harmonies, infectious radio bounce) Count it up, one, two, three, four, Count the admirers walking out the door. Count up the nights that I spent on the floor, Still trying to figure out what I’m counting it for! Yeah, count it up, stack it to the sky, I got the freedom, but I’m asking myself why. Attention is easy when you’re running the town, So I’m counting what counts before the beat goes down! [Bridge - Female] (Sung) (Drums and bass strip back, warm electric piano chords, intimate and reflective) I don't have all the answers at twenty-one... I know how to guard my heart, I know how to have fun. I spent so much time keeping everybody out, Now I’m taking time to learn what I’m really about. It’s not about the crowd, it’s not about the score... It’s about knowing what my heart is really looking for. [Final Chorus - Female] (Sung) (Full 2006 production lift, maximum energy, stacked harmonies, playful ad-libs) Count it up, one, two, three, four (count it up, baby!), Count the admirers walking out the door (walking out the door). Count up the nights that I spent on the floor, Still trying to figure out what I’m counting it for! (What am I counting it for?) Yeah, count it up, stack it to the sky (stack it to the sky!), I got the freedom, but I’m asking myself why. Attention is easy when you’re running the town, So I’m counting what counts before the beat goes down! [Outro - Female] (Sung) (Lively bouncy beat fading, funk guitar, playful vocal refrain) Count it up... One, two, three... Still figuring it out. And that's alright with me. No Strings Attached. (Fade out)
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