The Count (feat. Wiz Khalifa)
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Lyrics
Gang, checks More money than these lames get More weed on the plane More diamonds on the chain La Música de Harry Fraud Um, backwards joints get rolled up Learned that in Amsterdam Learned as a young man Get cash fast as you can But don't blow it too fast Always save some for the road, make the smoke last Never ask permission, we just blow past Momma twisting up joints, I'm just scribbling in this notepad Hoping that, the hotel got good room service that I could throw back Put on a movie that's a throwback Or just some beats, Harry Fraud just sent the whole pack Maybe hit the pool swim a couple laps Do my best when I'm relaxed Back in the day, the way they used to send the message all facts Beef without a scratch, used to doubt us Now the game wouldn't be the same without us Smoke the loudest Uh, my weed good, my bitch bad My joints burn slow all my cars go fast Sweatpants, pockets is bulging with cash, hella stacks Dipping that player shit they never put on the racks Members only shit, private showroom out back Fashion bloggers have to ask you, "Where you got it at?" Spitter just a real nigga who can rap Only deliver facts about my life but It's tight 'cause my life is all that Famous enough to get in there for free But not so famous that people keep bothering me While I'm chopping the tree Smoking one this a selfie, a motherfucking personal son It's enough gas in the world for all of you So I ain't 'bout to pass my fuckin' joints over to you We could get high, count to these high tunes Baby I got hella player grooves in the Chevy as we cruise I can't wait until New Orleans make the news Completely legalize recreational that's like a dream come true At the marina getting stoned to some Nina Simone Shorty never heard them vibes until I put her on Smoke two more sticks while I drove her home Shorty pouting lookin' like something wrong But she don't wanna be alone Talkin' 'bout how well we get along But my money really got her mind blown She think I'm dumb, baby girl I'm not the one Money machine count while I twiddle my thumbs Money machine count while I lace up my Banned 1's Money machine count you delivered that ransom Money machine counting that stash for my grandson Money machine copped the island to land on Money machine my own, hustling feet I stand on ♪ East side, parked the Medina at the Marina They was amazed when they seen us Millionaires Two of us it was like 50 M's between us Arguing who Rolex the cleanest Gang, checks More money than these lames get More weed on the plane More diamonds on the chain La Música de Harry Fraud Um, backwards joints get rolled up Learned that in Amsterdam Learned as a young man Get cash fast as you can But don't blow it too fast Always save some for the road, make the smoke last Never ask permission, we just blow past Momma twisting up joints, I'm just scribbling in this notepad Hoping that, the hotel got good room service that I could throw back Put on a movie that's a throwback Or just some beats, Harry Fraud just sent the whole pack Maybe hit the pool swim a couple laps Do my best when I'm relaxed Back in the day, the way they used to send the message all facts Beef without a scratch, used to doubt us Now the game wouldn't be the same without us Smoke the loudest Uh, my weed good, my bitch bad My joints burn slow all my cars go fast Sweatpants, pockets is bulging with cash, hella stacks Dipping that player shit they never put on the racks Members only shit, private showroom out back Fashion bloggers have to ask you, "Where you got it at?" Spitter just a real nigga who can rap Only deliver facts about my life but It's tight 'cause my life is all that Famous enough to get in there for free But not so famous that people keep bothering me While I'm chopping the tree Smoking one this a selfie, a motherfucking personal son It's enough gas in the world for all of you So I ain't 'bout to pass my fuckin' joints over to you We could get high, count to these high tunes Baby I got hella player grooves in the Chevy as we cruise I can't wait until New Orleans make the news Completely legalize recreational that's like a dream come true At the marina getting stoned to some Nina Simone Shorty never heard them vibes until I put her on Smoke two more sticks while I drove her home Shorty pouting lookin' like something wrong But she don't wanna be alone Talkin' 'bout how well we get along But my money really got her mind blown She think I'm dumb, baby girl I'm not the one Money machine count while I twiddle my thumbs Money machine count while I lace up my Banned 1's Money machine count you delivered that ransom Money machine counting that stash for my grandson Money machine copped the island to land on Money machine my own, hustling feet I stand on ♪ East side, parked the Medina at the Marina They was amazed when they seen us Millionaires Two of us it was like 50 M's between us Arguing who Rolex the cleanest Gang, checks More money than these lames get More weed on the plane More diamonds on the chain La Música de Harry Fraud Um, backwards joints get rolled up Learned that in Amsterdam Learned as a young man Get cash fast as you can But don't blow it too fast Always save some for the road, make the smoke last Never ask permission, we just blow past Momma twisting up joints, I'm just scribbling in this notepad Hoping that, the hotel got good room service that I could throw back Put on a movie that's a throwback Or just some beats, Harry Fraud just sent the whole pack Maybe hit the pool swim a couple laps Do my best when I'm relaxed Back in the day, the way they used to send the message all facts Beef without a scratch, used to doubt us Now the game wouldn't be the same without us Smoke the loudest Uh, my weed good, my bitch bad My joints burn slow all my cars go fast Sweatpants, pockets is bulging with cash, hella stacks Dipping that player shit they never put on the racks Members only shit, private showroom out back Fashion bloggers have to ask you, "Where you got it at?" Spitter just a real nigga who can rap Only deliver facts about my life but It's tight 'cause my life is all that Famous enough to get in there for free But not so famous that people keep bothering me While I'm chopping the tree Smoking one this a selfie, a motherfucking personal son It's enough gas in the world for all of you So I ain't 'bout to pass my fuckin' joints over to you We could get high, count to these high tunes Baby I got hella player grooves in the Chevy as we cruise I can't wait until New Orleans make the news Completely legalize recreational that's like a dream come true At the marina getting stoned to some Nina Simone Shorty never heard them vibes until I put her on Smoke two more sticks while I drove her home Shorty pouting lookin' like something wrong But she don't wanna be alone Talkin' 'bout how well we get along But my money really got her mind blown She think I'm dumb, baby girl I'm not the one Money machine count while I twiddle my thumbs Money machine count while I lace up my Banned 1's Money machine count you delivered that ransom Money machine counting that stash for my grandson Money machine copped the island to land on Money machine my own, hustling feet I stand on ♪ East side, parked the Medina at the Marina They was amazed when they seen us Millionaires Two of us it was like 50 M's between us Arguing who Rolex the cleanest
Audio Features
Song Details
- Duration
- 03:14
- Tempo
- 83 BPM