Young Jeezy Rihanna and Rick Ross - Pour It Up Lyrics

Say, Rih-Rih, let's take this shit to the street one-time, you know? (It's the remix)
Throwin' hundreds like loose change, still got my money (ayy)
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 (ayy)
These bitch niggas be actin' up, these hoes niggas be actin' 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
Gettin' f*cked 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, the way it's supposed to be (yeah)
Two Glock .40s at all time
Gon' shoot back a nigga shoot at me, just know it (ha, ha, yeah)

Oh
All I see is signs
All I see is dollar signs
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 (it's the biggest nigga in the game)
That's how we ball out (sexy bitches world wide, what's up?)
That's how we ball out (f*ck with me huh? Yeah) (M-M-M-M-Maybach Music)
That's how we ball out

My foreign cars, domestic beefs (huh)
Peter Luger's, the better seats
Dollar after dollar (dollar), bottle after bottle (boss)
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 coppin' Chanel bags
Talkin' 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-ha)
Boss on the avi, Rihanna screensaver
Whenever you see fat boy, I know it mean paper (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' f*ck 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 (yeah, ho)
Purple all in my Sprite, I'm high as Denzel on Flight (yeah, ho)
Scared money don't make no money, you niggas shaky like dice (yeah, ho)
I'm in the bed with your wife, we popping' pills, we going hard (yeah, ho)
When she with you she a church girl, when she with me she a porn star (yeah, ho)
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 sayin'?
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 club and dollar bills
I still got more money
Patrón shots, can I get a refill?
I still got more money
Strippers goin' up and down that pole
And I still got more money
Four o'clock and we ain't going home
'Cause I still got more money
Money make the world go 'round
I still got more money
Bands make your girl go down
And I still got more money
Lot more where that came from
I still got more money
The look in your eyes, I know you want some
I still got more money

Pour it up, pour it up (ayy)
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out (aight, Rih, let's get it, baby)
That's how we ball out (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)
Ayy, and these trap niggas I represent (still got more money)
Ayy, it's Hustle Gang and we poppin', got big bank rolls in our pockets
Hoppin' 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 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, I'm picky
See these trap niggas, they honor me and these rap niggas up under me
Ain't nothin' for me to get a hundred ki's and then stimulate the economy, like

Oh (yup)
All I see is signs (ayy)
All I see is dollar signs (yup)
Oh (yup)
Money on my mind (hey)
Money, money on my mind (yup)
Throw it, throw it up (okay)
Watch it fall out from the sky (okay)
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 (ayy)
Watch it all fall out
Pour it up, pour it up (ayy)
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out