Rihanna feat. Young Jeezy, Rick Ross, Juicy J, & T.I. - Pour It Up (Remix) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Rihanna feat. Young Jeezy, Rick Ross, Juicy J, & T.I.
• Pour It Up (Remix)

[Intro: Young Jeezy]
Say, Rih-Rih, let’s take this shit to the street one-time, you know? (its the remix)
Throwin’ hundreds like loose change, still got my money (AY)
Got your broad in that Mulsanne, that Bentley homie (haha)
Seats whiter than cocaine, that .40 on me (yeah)
Got me and Chi-Chi, bring broads, mane - she like my homie (let's go!)

[Young Jeezy]
I’m King Tut with my gold chain (gold chain), my partner with me, he the dope mane (yeeeah)
Straight gas nigga, that BP on that E-40, that OG (AY)
These bitch niggas be actin' up, these hoes niggas be actin' foul (CHEA)
They’ll grind with you, they’ll shine with you, be pointin’ fingers off at your trial (daaamn)
My Rolls Royce with my driver in it, gettin’ fucked up ‘cause I ain’t got to drive (yeeah)
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 (yeeeah)
Two Glock .40s at all time gon' shoot back a nigga shooting me, you know it
Haha, yeah...

[Rick Ross - over Hook]
It's the biggest nigga in the game
Sexy bitches world wide, whassap?
Fuck with me huh? Yeah {M-M-M-M-Maybach Music}

[Rick Ross]
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 (HAHA)
Baby, do the math, I’m coppin’ Chanel bags
Talkin’ Belle Harbour, cigars by Hermes (WOOOO...)
Know we ran the streets, eatin’ 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}

[Juicy J]
We trippy mane.. uh
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 (yeah ho!)
Ziplock 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 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 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

[Rihanna]
Strip clubs and dolla' bills - still got mo' money
Patron shots can I get a refill - still got mo' money
Strippers going up and down that pole - still got mo' money
4'o clock and we ain't going home cause I still got mo' money
Money make the world go round - still got mo' money
Bands make you girl go down - still got mo' money
Lot more where that came from - still got mo' money
The look in your eyes, I know you want some - still got mo' money

[Interlude: Rihanna]
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

I catch a case and I go to jail (still got mo' money)
I came home and went back, oh well (still got mo' money)
I’m multiplying everything I spend (still got mo' money)
These trap niggas I represent (still got mo' money)
It’s Hustle Gang and we poppin’, got big bank rolls in our pockets
Hoppin’ out a foreign vehicle (what), throwin’ forty Gs, ain’t no issue, bitch, bitch!
I’m 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 b

Rihanna feat. Young Jeezy, Rick Ross, Juicy J, & T.I. еще тексты