Tips Songtext
von Rodney Atkins

Well I was counting my tips after playing six sets
In this Gulf Shore watering hole
When this old beach bum yelled out
"Come on, Blake, give me three steps"
I was beat but I played him one more
And I was headed out towards the door
But then he handshaked and handed me a hundred dollar bill
Said, "By the way, I own this bar"
Then he winked at me and said
"Kid, I got a few more tips
But they sure ain′t the kind that'll fit in that jar"
You gotta treat people right on the ride up
They′ll have your back on the way back down
Said take it from this old beach bum, son
Keeping it real is what it's really about
You can count your blessings, count yourself lucky
For every day you get above ground
Oh, it ain't about keeping count of what you got
It′s making what you got count
He grabbed me by the arm and said, he said


"Real quick, boy, let me tell you this story
′Bout this real rich dude I used to know real well
He owned all kinds of stuff, but when he added it all up
He still felt like he was empty as hell"
He said, "Son, would you believe that that dude was me
Back before I inventoried my life
I just lived down here selling shots and some beer
And dispensing some free advice"
Like treat people right on the ride up
They'll have your back on the way back down
Said take it from this old beach bum, son
Keeping it real is what it′s really about
Count your blessings, count yourself lucky
For every day you get above ground
'Cause it ain′t about keeping count of what you got
It's making what you got count
Oh, now I can′t recollect how much I collected
In my jar in that bar, but what he said's in my head for life
And tonight I stopped in to have a beer with my old friend
And when he saw those tour buses outside
He said now are you treating people right on the ride up
They'll have your back on the way back down
He said take it from this old beach bum, son
Yeah, keep it real, that′s what it′s really about
And the best things in life you can't put a price on
They don′t come with no dollar amount, no
'Cause it ain′t about keeping count of what you got
It's making what you got count
No, it ain′t about keeping count of what you got
No, it all comes down to making what you got count
Make it count
That's what it comes down to, son
Count on your friends and be a friend