Luyện nghe bài hát Countin Money

Fuck a rubber band a nigga a buncha birds (X4)
[Over intro - Gucci (Yo Gotti)]
Yo, Gucci, brrrr, R.I.P. Pimp C mane, brrrr
(This that my, straight my)

Money all day, money all day
Count money all day, count all, money all
Count money all day, money all day, count money all
Money all, money all, all day

B - Verse 1]
Say mane, no where I go, no matter what I do
If chillin' wit' myself, or wit' my crew
The skies is lookin' or Bahama water blue
I got that on my mind, so tell me what it do
And if you be me, then you already knew it
We goin' for the then we goin' right through it
Take it to the table baby, chop it up and it
'Cause it ain't to it where come from, but to do it
We get it in our hands, and then it go right the fingas
We on the system in a fresh set of swangas
We pop a couple tags, put some up on the hangas
That everyday struggle and nair nigga change us
Believe I was famous 'fore I ever did a song
Believe I had a 'fore a label put me on
It's 2010 and I ain't seein' wrong
But countin' money all day fuckin' long

[Yo Gotti - 2]
Money totin', carrying young nigga thugged out
Very first I ever dropped was in a drug house
Razor blades, sandwich bags, shoes, stoopid swag
Rubber bands, duffle bags, small bills, bags
Apple chain on my neck, you know cost stoopid cash
Maserati for the wash, that foolish cash
Penitentiary chances, on a muscle car
Bun helped me keep it and watch it take me far
My money don't fold, this money
I ain't make it for no hoes, I ain't get this off of
Count money all day, count money all
no one wit' my paper, so I count my paper twice
I been on wit' out my paper, so I sleep it at night
Now I up wit' to my paper so I start my day off right
They call me Cocaine Gotti, and it's money over
Mr. Everything White, he be in the kitchen

[Gucci - Verse 3]
It's me
I'm the shit bitch you me
Ain't no to check ya sneakers
Three bricks, plus a split me, then bitch you got a hit
Big money on my leisure, pop wit' top models
my goons in Puerto Rico, yo' girlfriend I'ma freak her
Believe me I'm a giant, it to the lemurs(?)
I only see my paper plus my cojan on the
The hottest that you know, people look like Cujo (Gucci)
I get a thousand million ties and sold your for uno
So tune into Atlanta, please don't change the channel ma
Roll the down back up
In my show my automa
out my partner, naw
Don't you want this
Thinkin' that you angry 'cause my neck like the Mardi Gras