Текст песни «Rihanna - Pour It Up Remix»

[Intro: Young Jeezy]
Say, Rih-Rih, lets take this shit to the street one-time, you know?
Throwin hundreds like loose change (still got my money)
Got your broad in that Mulsanne (that Bentley, homie)
Seats whiter than cocaine (that 40 on me)
Got me and Chi-Chi, bring broads, mane
She like my homie

[Verse 1: Young Jeezy]
Im King Tut with my gold chain
My partner with me, he the dope mane
Straight gassed, nigga, that BP
On that E40, that OG
These bitch niggas be actin up
These hoe niggas be actin foul
Theyll grind with you, theyll shine with you
Be pointin fingers off at your trial
My Rolls Royce with my driver in it
Gettin fucked up cause I aint got to drive
Got Kendrick on them bottles
Came and poured a swimming pool and we about to dive
Got one room, got three bitches
And youre damn right thats where theyre supposed to be
Two glock.40s at all times
Ill shoot back if niggas shoot at me, you know it

[Hook: Rihanna]
Ohhh
All I see is signs
All I see is dollar signs
Ohhh
Money on my mind
Money, money on my mind
Throw it, throw it up
Watch it fall out from the sky
Throw it up, throw it up
Watch it all fall out
Pour it up, pour it up
Thats how we ball out
Throw it up, throw it up
Watch it all fall out
Pour it up, pour it up
Thats how we ball out
Thats how we ball out
Thats how we ball out
Thats how we ball out

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
My foreign cars domestic beefs
Peter Lugers the better seats
Dollar after dollar bottle after bottle
Late for you haters even though my plane charter
Suede Bally shoes, true rude boy
Ferrari 400 horses, we do it for cool points
Baby, do the math Im coppin Chanel bags
Talkin Bell Harbour cigars for her mans
Know we run the streets, eatin cold bully beef
Now we at the Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet
Boss on the avey, Rihanna screensaver
Whenever you see the fat boy, you know it mean paper

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Juicy J pourin up codeine Benz all white, no chlorine
Bad chick with me got ass and titties
Freaky bitch gon fuck the whole team
Ziplock bag full of OG I go in like a door key
Your girlfriend on both knees, she catch more balls than a goalie
Purple all in my sprite, Im high as Denzel on Flight
Scared of money, dont make no money
You niggas shaky like dice
Im in the bed with your wife
We poppin pills, we goin hard
When she with you she a church girl
When she with me she a pornstar
Smokin on doobies like cigarettes
Which one of these strippers give head the best?
Pussy so good that I think Im in love
What am I saying? It must be the drugs
Pour it up, pop that ass out, make it rain, hoe
Ill make it flood, shorty, you might need a raincoat

[Verse 3: Rihanna]
Strip clubs and dollar bills
Still got more money
Patron shots, can I get a refill?
I still got more money
Strippers goin up and down that pole
And I still got my money
Four oclock and we aint going home
Still got more money
Money make the world go around
I still got my money
Bands make your girl go down
Still got more money
Lot more where that came from
Still got more money
The look in your eyes, I you know you want some
Still got more money
Pour it up, pour it up
Thats how we ball out
Thats how we ball out
Thats how we ball out
Thats how we ball out

[Verse 4: T.I.]
I catch a case and I go to jail (still got more money)
I came home and went back over there (still got more money)
Im multiplying everything I spend (still got more money)
These trap niggas I represent (still got more money)
Its Hustle Gang and we poppin
Got big bank rolls in our pockets
Hoppin out a foregin vehicle
Throwin forty Gs, aint no issue, bitch, bitch!
Im thorough as it get, official, bitch, bitch!
Better watch your pussy poppin
I might wanna come and get you, bitch
Now everywhere you may see me
Surrounded by bad bitches like Rih-Rih
Got them booty shots, look like Nicki
Face and toes pretty, Im picky
See these trap niggas, they on to me
And these rap niggas up under me
Aint nothin for me to get a hundred keys
And then stimulate the economy, like

[Hook]