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Yo Gotti - Countin Money lyrics
[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 bagsYo Gotti - Countin Money - http://motolyrics.com/yo-gotti/countin-money-lyrics.html
 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]








