Countin' Money

Bun BBun B 

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Bun B

Bernard Freeman (born March 19, 1973) professionally known by his stage name Bun B, is an American rapper and was one half of the southern rap duo UGK (UnderGround Kingz). He is also a guest lecturer at Rice University located in Houston, Texas. He recently released his third official solo album Trill OG on August 3, 2010, which received a 5 Mic "Classic" rating in The Source Magazine - the first album in over five years to receive the honor. Bun B is married with two stepchildren. more »

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(F*ck a rubber band a nigga need a buncha' birds)
(F*ck a rubber band a nigga need a buncha' birds)
(F*ck a rubber band a nigga need a buncha' birds)
(F*ck a rubber band a nigga need a buncha' birds)

[Chorus]
Money all day, count money all day 
Count money all day, count money all, money all 
Count money all day, count money all day, count money all 
Money all, money all day 

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

[Chorus] 

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

[Chorus] 

It's me Gucci 
I'm the shit bitch you smell me 
Ain't no need to check ya sneakers 
Three bricks, plus a split wit' me, then bitch you got a hit 
Big money on my leisure, pop bottles wit' top models 
Wit' my goons in Puerto Rico, 
Yo' girlfriend I'm a freak her 
Believe me I'm a giant, you down best leave us to believe us  
I own the team I play for, plus I coach 'em I'm the center
The hottest rapper that you know, people look like Cujo (Gucci) 
A coward dies a million times a soldier dies with uno 
So tune into East Atlanta uh, 
Please don't change the channel ma 
Roll the windows down back up 
In my Phantom show my automa 
Hangin' out my partner, naw 
Don't you want this autograph? 
Thinkin' that you angry 
Ccause my neck look like the Mardi Gras 

[Chorus]

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