| Well, I was counting my tips at the Playing Sixes
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| In this
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| When this old beach bum yelled out
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| «Come on, play, give me three steps»
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| I was beat but I played him one more
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| Then I was headed out towards the door
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| And he handshake and handed me a hundred dollar bills
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| And said, «By the way, I own this bar»
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| Then he winked at me and said, «Kid, I got a few more tips
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| But they sure ain’t the kind that would fit in that jar»
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| You gotta treat people right on your ride up
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| They’ll have your back on the way back down
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| He said, «Take it from this old beach bum, son
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| Keeping it real is what it’s really about»
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| You can count your blessings, count yourself lucky
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| But every day you get above ground
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| Oh, that ain’t about keeping count of what you got
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| It’s making what you got count
|
| He grabbed me by the arm and said
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| He said, «Real quick, boy, let me tell you this story
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| About this real rich dude I used to know real well
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| He owned all kinds of stuff but when he added it all up
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| He still felt like he was empty as hell»
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| He said, «Son, would you believe that
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| That dude was me back before I inventoried my life
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| Ah, just to live down here, selling shots and some beer
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| And, and dispensing some free advice»
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| Now treat people right on your ride up
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| They’ll have your back on the way back down
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| He said, «Take it from this old beach bum, son
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| Keeping it real, that’s what it’s really about»
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| Count your blessings, count yourself lucky
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| Every day you get above ground
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| Because it ain’t about keeping count of what you got
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| It’s making what you got count
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| Oh, now I can’t recollect how much I collected in my jar
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| And tonight I started getting to have a beer with my old friends
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| And when he saw those tour buses outside, he said
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| Now are your treating people right on your ride up?
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| They’ll have your back on the way back down
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| He said, «Take it from this old beach bum, son
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| Yeah, keep it real, that’s what it’s really about»
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| And the best things in life, you can’t put a price on
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| They don’t come with no dollar or map, no
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| Because it ain’t about keeping count of what you got
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| It’s making what you got count
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| No, it ain’t about keeping count of what you got
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| No, it all comes down to making what you got count
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| Make it count, that’s what it comes down to, son
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| Tell your friends and be a friend
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| Count your blessings, don’t count your problems |