Count Up The Money Lyrics – Trippie Redd
Singer: Trippie Redd
Title: Count Up The Money
(BANG$KOTT, f#ck around, you know he make that beat drop)
Yeah
Fives, tens, twentys (Yeah), fifties, and hundreds
I count up the money (Yeah, I count up)
Rubber band, duffle-bag, count up the money (Count it up)
Hundred bands, double up, count up the money (Woo, count it up)
Fours in the double cup, sippin’ the muddy
She hop on the dick like a muhf#ckin’ bunny (Boom)
Pardon me, sir, I do not know what’s funny
Where they laughin’ at me because I’m gettin’ money (I’m gettin’ guap)
Jokes on you, ha-ha, still broke (b#tch)
Tear my Ferragamo belt off, dick in hеr throat (Woo, yeah)
Pull down my zipper, make a lil’ b#tch chokе
Steady hoppin’ to conclusions, lil’ n#gg#, get croaked (Bah)
No Facebook, face shots, n#gg#, get poked (Bah, woo)
I’m a slime, lil’ b#tch, like lil’ Geico
Bust the Uzi off the mothaf#ckin’ motorcycle (Slatt, okay)
He was barely breathing’, had to let his lil’ life go (Ha)
Fives, tens, twentys (Yeah), fifties, and hundreds
I count up the money (I count up)
Rubber band duffle-bag, count up the money
Hundred bands, double up, count up the money (Woo, hey)
Fours in the double cup, sippin’ the muddy (Hey)
She hop on the dick like a muhf#ckin’ bunny
Pardon me, sir, I do not know what’s funny
Where they laughin’ at me because I’m gettin’ money (I’m gettin’ guap)
I’m gettin’ guap (Ayy)
I’m gettin’ top (Woo)
By America’s number one thot (It’s crazy but it’s true)
As soon as I drop off the top, she watching’ my Cartier watch (Ayy)
f#ck it, b#tch, I’m on a new level (New level)
L.A. geeked out with the Blue Devil (Blue Devil)
I got the blunt with the red bezzle
I’m whippin’ that door ’til it lock (Woo)
My money be green like my lawn
{?} slime {?} ain’t nobody trustin’ ’em
Send her in, go get a bag, she don’t f#ck for free
Drippin’ in double C, racks in the double B (Kickin’)
In this sh#t, no it’s no love, no huggin’ me (Uh-uh)
In the car, b#tch just text (Text)
Yeah, we know I play just SEX (Sex)
Her p#ss# real cautious, yeah, it’s wet (Wet)
Whole hundred round on the TEC (Rrah)
Sure, we sippin’ syrup, goin’ away (Syrup)
Time to go cop me a Jag’ (Jag’)
Too wavy, don’t play with these boys
Got AK’s and AR’s, we spray all these boys (Spray all these boys)
A n#gg# get stamped like a passport (A n#gg# get stamped)
That was your choice
Fives, tens, twentys (Yeah), fifties, and hundreds
I count up the money (I count up)
Rubber band duffle-bag, count up the money
Hundred bands, double up, count up the money (Woo)
Fours in the double cup, sippin’ the muddy
She hop on the dick like a muhf#ckin’ bunny
Pardon me, sir, I do not know what’s funny
Where they laughin’ at me because I’m gettin’ money (I’m gettin’ guap)
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Lyrics Trippie Redd – Count Up The Money
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