Nice work if you can get it And you can get it if you try The man who only lives for making money Lives a life that isn't necessarily sunny Likewise the man who works for fame There's no guarantee that time won't erase his name The fact is, the only work

I said I know that this may sound funny But money don't mean nothin' to me I won't make my music for money, no When I woke up this morning I was tired as I could be I think I was counting my money When I should have been counting sheep My agent he just

Count up that money we sexing in Never knew I'd do you so right Never knew it was worth the sacrifice Never felt this feeling so fast But fucking around with me is dangerous The lines are blurry now, this isn't lust But you like it (but you like it) And

Look at your Rollie, uh, look at my Rollie, uh That's a small face, uh, this a big face, uh Gettin' bored with this money, count it all day She can't see my room, fuck her in the hallway (yeah) Because it's the last ride ever gonna That I'm ever gonna

Respect the game Rule number one, never count your homie pockets thinkin' you deserve it Rule number two, never trust a bitch that'll fuck you for some purses Rule number three, save you some of that money, shit you better stop splurgin' 'Cause when it's

It got blood on the money and I still count it They got blood on the money and I still count it I can't help the way I'm raised up That Easter Pink, I tried to give it up, I can't give it up We've been at the laundromat all day We've been washin' money

You know we're straight out of that dirty south Dirty roads, nobody got no money Got them shined up pickup trucks Whistlin' at them honies From the country, yes sir You know we're straight out of that long week work At night, everybody wanna party All

You know how that shit go Runnin' through the 6 with my woes I was runnin' through the 6 with my woes Yeah, this that Oliver 40 Niko shit man, 15 Fort York shit ya know Boi-1da, what's poppin'? Countin' money you know how it goes Pray the real live

Run up the money, then count up the commas And go get the money lil' bitch (Money, lil' bitch) Hundred round drum on the Glock These bitches be suckin' and swallowin' dick I swear I can't trust 'em for shit (Trust 'em for shit) Know that's a dusty lil'

And I got no time, no time I just want my money right Mama told me that she's proud of me Told her, "Mummy, you can count on me" Models say they like the style on me I got a lot on my mind (Mind) Fuck with my slime and get slimed (Slimed) Baguettes,