Luyện nghe bài hát Countin Money

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

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

[Bun B - 1]
Say mane, no matta where I go, no what I do
If chillin' myself, or ballin' wit' my crew
The skies is lookin' or Bahama water blue
I got that money on my mind, so tell me 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, it up and screw it
'Cause it nothin' to it where come from, but to do it
We get it in our hands, and then it go through the fingas
We standin' on the system in a fresh set of
We pop a tags, put some fresh up on the hangas
That everyday struggle and can't nigga change us
Believe I was famous 'fore I ever did a song
Believe I had a poppin' 'fore a put me on
2010 and I ain't seein' nothin' wrong
But countin' money all day fuckin' long

[Yo Gotti - 2]
Money totin', carrying young nigga thugged out
Very first song I ever was in a drug house
Razor blades, bags, Louis shoes, stoopid swag
bands, duffle bags, small bills, trash bags
Apple chain on my neck, you know that cost cash
Maserati for the wash, that's that foolish
Penitentiary chances, '6's on a car
Bun helped me keep it real and watch it me far
My money don't fold, money here
I ain't make it for no hoes, I get this off of shows
Count money all day, money all night
Trust no one wit' my paper, so I count my paper
I been on wit' out my paper, so I sleep it at night
Now I wake up wit' to my so I start my day off right
They call me Cocaine Gotti, and it's over bitches
Mr. White, he be always in the kitchen

[Gucci Mane - 3]
me Gucci
I'm the shit you smell me
Ain't no need to ya sneakers
Three bricks, plus a split wit' me, then you got a hit
Big money on my leisure, pop bottles wit' top
Wit' my goons in Puerto Rico, yo' girlfriend I'ma her
me I'm a giant, leave it to the lemurs(?)
I only see my paper plus my cojan on the
The hottest rapper that you know, look like Cujo (Gucci)
I get a thousand million and sold your guys for uno
So into East Atlanta, please don't change the channel ma
Roll the windows back up
In my Phantom show my
out my partner, naw
Don't you want this
Thinkin' that you angry 'cause my neck look the Mardi Gras