paroles de chanson Countin' Money - Yo Gotti
[Intro]Fuck
a
rubber
band
a
nigga
need
a
buncha
birds
(X4)
[Over
intro
- Gucci
Mane
(Yo
Gotti)]Yo,
It's
Gucci,
brrrr,
R.I.P.
Pimp
C
mane,
brrrr
(This
that
straight
my,
straight
my)
[Chorus]Money
all
day,
count
money
all
day
Count
money
all
day,
count
money
all,
money
all
Count
money
all
day,
count
money
all
day,
count
money
all
Money
all,
money
all,
money
all
day
[Bun
B
- Verse
1]Say
mane,
no
matta
where
I
go,
no
matter
what
I
do
If
chillin'
wit'
myself,
or
ballin'
wit'
my
crew
The
skies
is
lookin'
cloudy
or
Bahama
water
blue
I
got
that
money
on
my
mind,
so
tell
me
what
it
do
And
if
you
be
like
me,
then
you
already
knew
it
We
goin'
for
the
money
then
we
goin'
right
through
it
Take
it
to
the
table
baby,
chop
it
up
and
screw
it
'Cause
it
ain't
nothin'
to
it
where
come
from,
but
to
do
it
We
get
it
in
our
hands,
and
then
it
go
right
through
the
fingas
We
standin'
on
the
system
in
a
fresh
set
of
swangas
We
pop
a
couple
tags,
put
some
fresh
up
on
the
hangas
That
everyday
struggle
and
can't
nair
nigga
change
us
Believe
that
I
was
famous
'fore
I
ever
did
a
song
Believe
I
had
a
poppin'
'fore
a
label
put
me
on
It's
2010
and
I
ain't
seein'
nothin'
wrong
But
niggas
countin'
money
all
day
fuckin'
long
[Chorus]
[Yo
Gotti
- Verse
2]Money
totin',
pistol
carrying
young
nigga
thugged
out
Very
first
song
I
ever
dropped
was
in
a
drug
house
Razor
blades,
sandwich
bags,
Louis
shoes,
stoopid
swag
Rubber
bands,
duffle
bags,
small
bills,
trash
bags
Apple
chain
on
my
neck,
you
know
that
cost
stoopid
cash
Maserati
for
the
wash,
that's
that
foolish
cash
Penitentiary
chances,
'6's
on
a
muscle
car
Bun
helped
me
keep
it
real
and
watch
it
take
me
far
My
money
don't
fold,
this
money
here
I
ain't
make
it
for
no
hoes,
I
ain't
get
this
off
of
shows
Count
money
all
day,
count
money
all
night
Trust
no
one
wit'
my
paper,
so
I
count
my
paper
twice
I
been
on
wit'
out
my
paper,
so
I
sleep
wit'
it
at
night
Now
I
wake
up
wit'
to
my
paper
so
I
start
my
day
off
right
They
call
me
Cocaine
Gotti,
and
it's
money
over
bitches
Mr.
Everything
White,
he
be
always
in
the
kitchen
[Chorus]
[Gucci
Mane
- Verse
3]It's
me
Gucci
I'm
the
shit
bitch
you
smell
me
Ain't
no
need
to
check
ya
sneakers
Three
bricks,
plus
a
split
wit'
me,
then
bitch
you
got
a
hit
Big
money
on
my
leisure,
pop
bottles
wit'
top
models
Wit'
my
goons
in
Puerto
Rico,
yo'
girlfriend
I'ma
freak
her
Believe
me
I'm
a
giant,
leave
it
to
the
lemurs(?)
I
only
see
my
paper
plus
my
cojan
on
the
Sanyo
The
hottest
rapper
that
you
know,
people
look
like
Cujo
(Gucci)
I
get
a
thousand
million
ties
and
sold
your
guys
for
uno
So
tune
into
East
Atlanta,
please
don't
change
the
channel
ma
Roll
the
windows
down
back
up
In
my
Phantom
show
my
automa
Hangin'
out
my
partner,
naw
Don't
you
want
this
autograph?
Thinkin'
that
you
angry
'cause
my
neck
look
like
the
Mardi
Gras
[Chorus]
![Yo Gotti - Countin' Money](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/j/i/7/1/1nfffq17ij.jpg)
1 We Can Get It On
2 Countin' Money
3 East Atlanta Memphis
4 Thin Line
5 Get It On da Flo
6 Fast
7 Cocaine Music
8 I'm Gucci
9 I Wanna Rock
10 Do This Shit Again
11 Gangsta Shit
12 Lean
13 Both Sides
14 M-Town
15 Fresh
16 I'll Ride, I'll Die
17 You Know Who We Are
18 Save da Trap
19 Las Mentira de Mujeres, los Hombres Estan
20 Hood Bitch Fetish
21 Transformers
22 Bedrock
23 Ice Cream Paint Job
24 Showing Out
25 Trouble
26 Get In My Car
27 Mi Casa, Su Casa
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