[Intro]
(Enrgy made this one)
Alright
Damn, I should—

[Chorus: Rio Da Yung OG]
Money counter on the backseat
Thirty in the heat for the n***as tryna jack me
Money counter on the backseat
Thirty on the heat case them n***as try to jack me
Money counter on the backseat
Case them n***as try to jack me
Tryna short me on the bread, money counter on the backseat
Money on your head, the money counter in the backseat

[Verse 1: Rio Da Yung OG]
Ayy, lil n***a, I don't act cheap
You want three hundred for a line, just let me grab a three
You ain't never heard 'bout a n***a whackin' me
N***a shot at me and he gon' die, that day exact— hold on
N***a, you gon' die that day exactly
High as hell, I'm in this bitch— cavity
High as hell, bitch, I'm in this bitch smokin' cavities
Hit the blunt twice and lost gravity
I'm finna drop a Trackhawk in the morning, n***a
Eighty racks right now, I blah— oh
Eighty racks right now, I just blew a fuckin' hundred, n***a
Y'all n***as ain't shit, we them one n***as
Hundred on me right now, 'cause my ice and shit
Your lil' bitch text, say she like this shit
Look, n***a, I'll fight the bitch
Put me in the— watch this, I'm finna write some shit
Ayy, matter fact, bitch, I'm done writin'
Me and Mike got two guns, bitch, we done fightin'
Tryna load a hundred in the drum, got my thumb tired
Extra four clips for the Glock, got my gun tired
[Chorus: Rio Da Yung OG]
Money counter on the backseat
Thirty in the heat for the n***as tryna jack me
Money counter on the backseat
Thirty on the heat case them n***as try to jack me
Money counter on the backseat
Case them n***as try to jack me
Tryna short me on the bread, money counter on the backseat
Money on your head, the money counter in the backseat

[Verse 2: RMC Mike]
Real Money Counter, but I ain't countin' shit
Pistol on me, ready to go to war, we in round six
Threw a jab and missed and caught his ass with a round kick
I got a hundred racks and twenty guns at my mom's crib
Hold on, bring it back, I'm in that old bag
Money on the floor, I hit the road with some bold tags
First n***a from Flint to hit a million on 4sho Mag
Your diamonds fake, I got my chain from Gary, so I'm gon' brag
Money counter on the backseat
Young n***a, heart cold as hell, but I pack heat
Bad bitch approached, I touched her down, she got acne
You will never see me chasin' hoes, I got fat feet
Thirty on the Glock, pop a opp to increase violence
Rio high as hell, hit the blunt and start freestyling
Fully auto switch on that chop, bro, I'm finna swing it
Ghetto Boyz, when we say pape', it got a different meanin'
Damn, I want some Actavis
Hit his ass with a single shot, he caught cancer quick
We on the road, bitch start suckin' dick on some random shit
Bitch, we living like stars, we ain't plan this shit
Back on my shit, I hit the booth with no hesitation
Finna pick a nickel up from Paul, left Kevin waitin'
Money counter on the backseat, we finna count two hundred
Yeah, you claim you up pape', but you ain't ever got no money
Me and Rio can't be stopped, we like Shaq and Kobe
Fuck around and went to Playground with that package on us
N***a, you ain't really hard, you had an active moment
Tomorrow when I wake up, I'm goin' to Gary to go cash a Rollie