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[Intro]Fuck a rubber band a nigga need a buncha birds (X4)[Over intro - Gucci Mane (Yo Gotti)] |
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Yo, it's Gucci, brrrr, |
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R.I.P. Pimp |
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C mane, brrrr(This that straight my, straight my)[Chorus] |
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Money all day, count money all day |
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Count money all day, count money all, money all |
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Count money all day, count money all day, count money all |
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Money all, money all, money all day[Bun B - Verse 1] |
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Say mane, no matta where |
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I go, no matter what |
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I doIf chillin' wit' myself, or ballin' wit' my crew |
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The skies is lookin' cloudy or |
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Bahama water blue |
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I got that money on my mind, so tell me what it do |
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And if you be like me, then you already knew it |
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We goin' for the money then we goin' right through it |
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Take it to the table baby, chop it up and screw it' |
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Cause it ain't nothin' to it where come from, but to do it |
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We get it in our hands, and then it go right through the fingas |
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We standin' on the system in a fresh set of swangas |
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We pop a couple tags, put some fresh up on the hangas |
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That everyday struggle and can't nair nigga change us |
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Believe that |
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I was famous 'fore |
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I ever did a song |
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Believe I had a poppin' 'fore a label put me on |
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It's 2010 and |
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I ain't seein' nothin' wrong |
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But niggas countin' money all day fuckin' long[Chorus][Yo Gotti - Verse 2] |
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Money totin', pistol carrying young nigga thugged out |
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Very first song |
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I ever dropped was in a drug house |
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Razor blades, sandwich bags, |
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Louis shoes, stoopid swag |
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Rubber bands, duffle bags, small bills, trash bags |
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Apple chain on my neck, you know that cost stoopid cash |
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Maserati for the wash, that's that foolish cash |
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Penitentiary chances, '6's on a muscle car |
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Bun helped me keep it real and watch it take me far |
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My money don't fold, this money here |
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I ain't make it for no hoes, |
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I ain't get this off of shows |
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Count money all day, count money all night |
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Trust no one wit' my paper, so |
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I count my paper twice |
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I been on wit' out my paper, so |
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I sleep wit' it at night |
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Now I wake up wit' to my paper so |
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I start my day off right |
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They call me |
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Cocaine Gotti, and it's money over bitches |
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Mr. Everything |
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White, he be always in the kitchen[Chorus][Gucci Mane - Verse 3] |
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It's me Gucci |
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I'm the shit bitch you smell me |
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Ain't no need to check ya sneakers |
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Three bricks, plus a split wit' me, then bitch you got a hit |
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Big money on my leisure, pop bottles wit' top models |
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Wit' my goons in |
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Puerto Rico, yo' girlfriend |
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I'ma freak her |
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Believe me |
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I'm a giant, leave it to the lemurs(?) |
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I only see my paper plus my cojan on the |
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SanyoThe hottest rapper that you know, people look like |
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Cujo (Gucci) |
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I get a thousand million ties and sold your guys for uno |
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So tune into |
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East Atlanta, please don't change the channel ma |
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Roll the windows down back up |
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In my Phantom show my automa |
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Hangin' out my partner, naw |
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Don't you want this autograph? |
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Thinkin' that you angry 'cause my neck look like the |
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Mardi Gras[Chorus] |
