Counting The Blues Lyrics

In Paris, you can buy a beer at McDonald's

You know what they call a quarter pounder with cheese in Paris

They don't call it a quarter pounder with cheese

I think it's a metric

What the fuck's a quarter pounder with cheese

What do they call it

They call it a Royale with cheese

Me and the homies stick together like we Vincent and Jules

And they go by Glock nine so don't get it confused

I don't get it by the one, yeah, I cop it in twos

And I ain't trippin' bout a thing, I'm just countin' the blues

Ay, I'm just countin' the blues

And I ain't trippin' bout a thing, I'm just countin' the blues

Ay, how you feelin', though

Put it down one time for the city, though

6-6-1, bako that's the area code

If it ain't bout no money, get a dial tone

Bounce back, shake that ass while I count stacks

Fuck a middle man, baby, I go around that

Sippin' dusse not the henny

Yeah, I ride around this town, got the semi

You know I got it

Ain't no killer but don't tempt me

If you touch my loved ones, you gon' think the motherfuckin' devil sent me

But I keep a laid-back bitch out the way

Only time I come out if I'm gettin' paid

Smokin' on the fuckin' flour, I already made the cake

Foot stay up on the gas, we don't hit the brake

Ay, we don't hit the brake

Foot stay up on the gas, we don't hit the brake

6-6-1, bako

6-6-1, bako that's the area code

If it ain't bout no money, if it ain't bout no money

If it ain't bout no money, get a dial tone

Me and the homies stick together like we Vincent and Jules

And they go by Glock nine so don't get it confused

I don't get it by the one, yeah, cop it in twos

And I ain't trippin' by the thang, I'm just countin' the blues

Ay, I'm just countin' the blues

And I ain't trippin' by the thang, I'm just countin' the blues