Album Cover The Count (feat. Wiz Khalifa)

The Count (feat. Wiz Khalifa)

CURREN$Y

2

Gang, checks

More money than these lames get

More weed on the planeMore 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