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Pour It Up (Remix)
Say, Rih-Rih, let's take this shit to the
street one-time, you know? (it's the
remix) Throwing hundreds like loose change, still got my money (ay) Got your broad in that Mulsanne, that Bentley homie (ha ha) Seats whiter than cocaine, that .40 on me (yeah) Got me and Chi-Chi, bring broads, mane – she like my homie (let's go!) I'm King Tut with my gold chain (gold chain), my partner with me, he the
dope mane (yeah) Straight gas nigga, that BP on that E-40, that OG (ay) These bitch niggas be acting up, these hoes niggas be acting foul (chea) They'll grind with you, they'll shine with you, be pointing fingers off at your trial (damn) My Rolls Royce with my driver in it, getting fucked up 'cause I
ain't got to drive (yeah) That Kendrick on them bottles came, poured a
swimming pool, now we 'bout to dive (that's right) Got one room, got three bitches nigga damn right that's where they're supposed to be (yeah) Two Glock .40s at all time gon' shoot back a
nigga shooting me, you know it Ha ha, yeah Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh All I
see is signs, all I
see is dollar signs Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh 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, that's how we ball out Throw it up-throw it up, watch it all fall out Pour it up pour it up, that's how we ball out That's how we ball out That's how we ball out That's how we ball out It's the
biggest nigga in the
game Sexy bitches world wide, what's up? Fuck with me huh? Yeah (M-M-M-M-Maybach Music) My foreign cars, domestic beefs (huh) Peter Luger's, the
better seats Dollar after dollar (dollar) bottle after bottle (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 (ha-ha) Baby, do the
math, I'm copping Chanel bags Talking Belle Harbour, cigars by Hermes (woo) Know we ran the
streets, eating cold bully beef (huh) Now we at the
Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet (ah-hah) Boss on the
avi, Rihanna screensaver Whenever you see fat boy, I
know it mean paper M-M-Maybach Music We trippy mane uh Juicy J
pouring up codeine, Benz all white, no chlorine Bad chick with me got ass and titties, freaky bitch gon' fuck the
whole team (yeah ho!) Ziploc bag full of OG, I
go in like a
door key Your girlfriend down on both knees, she catch more balls than a
goalie Purple all in my sprite, I'm high as Denzel on Flight Scared money don't make no money, you niggas shaky like dice I'm in the
bed with your wife – we popping pills, we going hard When she with you she a
church girl, when she with me she a
porn star Smoking on doobies like cigarettes, which one these strippers give head the
best? Pussy so good that I
think I'm in love; what am I
saying? It must be the
drugs (drugs, drugs) Pour it up, pop that ass, I
make it rain ho (yeah ho!) I'll make it flood, shorty, you might need a
raincoat Strip clubs and dollar bills – still got more money Patron shots can I
get a
refill – still got more money Strippers going up and down that pole – still got more money 4
o'clock and we ain't going home 'cause I
still got more money Money make the
world go round – still got more money Bands make you girl go down – still got more money Lot more where that came from – still got more money The
look in your eyes, I
know you want some – still got more money Pour it up, pour it up, that's how we ball out That's how we ball out That's how we ball out That's how we ball out Aight Rih, let get it baby Turn up! I
catch a
case and I
go to jail (still got more money) I
came home and went back, oh well (still got more money) I'm multiplying everything I
spend (still got more money) These trap niggas I
represent (still got more money) It's Hustle Gang and we popping, got big bank rolls in our pockets Hopping out a
foreign vehicle (what), throwing forty Gs, ain't no issue, bitch, bitch! I'm thorough as it get, official, bitch, bitch! Better watch your pussy popping – 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, I'm picky See these trap niggas, they honor me and these rap niggas up under me Ain't nothing for me to get a
hundred keys and then stimulate the
economy, like Yup, hey, yup, yup, hey, yup OK, OK Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh All I
see is signs, all I
see is dollar signs Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh 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, that's how we ball out Throw it up-throw it up, watch it all fall out Pour it up pour it up, that's how we ball out That's how we ball out That's how we ball out That's how we ball out
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