Counting The Blues

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