lirik lagu money counter – prod lucas
[chorus: donavns]:
too many bands, broke the money counter
i got my b*tch to count it up
my b*tch, yeah, she one of one
i’m getting money counted in the foreign
had to pass the b*tch, she got boring
in a year, overseas, i’m touring
back then, tears they were pouring
that’s when i was broke as f*ck
i made the music, i ran it up
i made the music, now she wanna f*ck
they say, “don, you make music, now you tough”, nah
i got the choppa, it’s on my waist
jeffery dahmer, shoot you in the face
count to three and we at your place
you better run, n*gga
[verse 1: young hachi]:
i change so much n*ggas stop call me blu
33728, n*gga, f*ck you and f*ck syracuse
n*gga opp too with his fake ass shoes
dissing new york, n*gga, f*ck you
you not j.i, you a fake boy
imma blow up
are those fakes?
boy, imma throw up
been a minute since i hit y’all with sh*t
after battle seen y’all talking sh*t
and now you got me in your mentions
mumbling now cuz i got the extensions
i’m the professor, put you in detention
philosophical but can’t feel the tension
rich n*gga, give my parents they pension
if we was ballin’ you’d be in the benches
n*ggas hauling
i shoot at your block, n*gga calling
his shoes get white off that pollen
he running, he gunning, his empire falling
(yeah) y’all b*tches
y’all move out the trap to the ditches
all of your homies they talked and went missing
you still taking bait like you fishing
yeah
[chorus: donavns]:
too many bands, broke the money counter
i got my b*tch to count it up
my b*tch, yeah, she one of one
i’m getting money counted in the foreign
had to pass the b*tch, she got boring
in a year, overseas, i’m touring
back then, tears they were pouring
that’s when i was broke as f*ck
i made the music, i ran it up
i made the music, now she wanna f*ck
they say, “don, you make music, now you tough”, nah
i got the choppa, it’s on my waist
jeffery dahmer, shoot you in the face
count to three and we at your place
you better run, n*gga
[verse 2: andrè]:
yeah
uh
i sit in my garden, i’m trimming my flowers
i’m growing some opium right next to the sour
my t**tering tower be tipping much louder
spent 120 on the whip
to have b*tches in the back with my emily blunt
spitting the runt
i’m the king of the litter
i swear your chick was my favorite spitter
she just wanted some b*tches
i needed switch hitters
i’m snorting the dust
i’m puffing some smoke
brown sh*t in my nostrils, you swore it was coke
my hand feeling solo, your b*tch is the hope
if i gotta k!ll myself, my chain is the only rope
i’m the best in the game, it’s hard not to cope
you spitting some steam, we wanted some smoke
dre is the name, the d stands for dope
s on my chest, you know i’m the best
g in the name, cause you know
this motherf*cker is the goat
ahh
[chorus: donavns]:
too many bands, broke the money counter
i got my b*tch to count it up
my b*tch, yeah, she one of one
i’m getting money counted in the foreign
had to pass the b*tch, she got boring
in a year, overseas, i’m touring
back then, tears they were pouring
that’s when i was broke as f*ck
i made the music, i ran it up
i made the music, now she wanna f*ck
they say, “don, you make music, now you tough”, nah
i got the choppa, it’s on my waist
jeffery dahmer, shoot you in the face
count to three and we at your place
you better run, n*gga
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