Luyện nghe bài hát Countin Money

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

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

B - Verse 1]
Say mane, no matta where I go, no what I do
If wit' myself, or ballin' wit' my crew
The skies is cloudy or Bahama water blue
I got that on my mind, so tell me what it do
And if you be like me, then you already it
We goin' for the money then we right through it
Take it to the baby, chop it up and screw 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 standin' on the in a fresh set of swangas
We pop a couple tags, put fresh up on the hangas
That everyday and can't nair nigga change us
that I was famous 'fore I ever did a song
Believe I had a poppin' 'fore a put me on
It's 2010 and I ain't seein' nothin'
But niggas 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, Louis shoes, stoopid
Rubber bands, bags, small bills, trash bags
Apple chain on my neck, you know that cost cash
for the wash, that's that foolish cash
Penitentiary chances, on a muscle car
Bun helped me it real and watch it take me far
My money don't fold, money here
I ain't make it for no hoes, I ain't get off of shows
Count money all day, count all night
Trust no one my paper, so I count my paper twice
I been on wit' out my paper, so I wit' it at night
Now I wake up wit' to my paper so I start my day off
They call me Gotti, and it's money over bitches
Mr. Everything White, he be always in the

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