[Hook: Momo]

Baby you know I love to count it, count it

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

If you talking guala then I'm on it (x2)

Baby you know I love to count it, count it

You know I love to count it, count it

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

You know I love to count it, count it

[Verse 1: Momo]

Love the way money feel up in my hands

You need the work, I can get you them grams

I need the bands inside of rubber bands

I need the bands inside of rubber bands, eh

I don't give a fuck what you think

Smoke me a blunt, I do not give a damn

I do not, I do not fuck with the bank, eh

I do not trust Uncle Sam

Booling in my muthafucking bity

Flicking middle fingers to the fucking Five O

I can smell the muthafucking money

Muthafucker I can see it with my eyes closed

Even with a blindfold

See a OP and then we slide hoe

Counting commas and it's mine hoe

I need my money on time hoe

Loyalty's my gold standard

I'm a cold bastard, when that pole blast ya

No trap god, we dope passers

Don't act hard, they gone catch ya

We did a lot for the 28 grams, grams, grams, grams

Love the way money feel up in my hands, hands, hands, hands

[Hook: Momo]

Baby you know I love to count it, count it

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

If you talking guala then I'm on it (x2)

Baby you know I love to count it, count it

You know I love to count it, count it

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

You know I love to count it, count it

[Verse 2: Balanco]

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

She sucking dick while I count it

Got the work and I'm flooding the projects

Bands coming in is astounding

Plug from the nigga the kilos

Bricks like a nigga, Shaq free throw

Two to a four, four to a nine

Now I'm moving these bitches like Nino

Remember them days when a nigga had so little

All of the struggle made this nigga so realer

Time in the box I spent hanging with real killers

Don't talk to cops to your neighborhood dope dealer

Love the way money feel up in my hands, hands, hands, hands

Love the sound of the fork scraping the pans, pans, pans, pans

Who the fuck this sucker ass nigga

Trying to run on the kid like he on shit?

Bet the pussy nigga get to twitching

Soon as me and Barley empty out a full clip

Leave him stinking like horse shit

Got a new bitch, she on hoe shit

She suck the team off

You know what we on

After the bricks, man we all need a rebound

Young nigga living and dying for commas

Pray for the weak, not for us we some shottas

Pray for the work crossing borders we watching

One it come through, bag the money back pop it

We did a lot for the thousand eight grams, grams, grams, grams

Money machine take the spot of our hands, hands, hands, hands

[Hook: Momo]

Baby you know I love to count it, count it

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

If you talking guala then I'm on it (x2)

Baby you know I love to count it, count it

You know I love to count it, count it

I'll be damned if I need an accountant

You know I love to count it, count it

ZOOTBOYS