Rihanna - Pour It Up (RL Grime remix) Lyrics

Say, Rih-Rih, let's 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
I'm 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
They'll grind with you, they'll shine with you
Be pointin' fingers off at your trial
My Rolls Royce with my driver in it
Gettin' fucked up ‘cause I ain't 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 you're damn right that's where they're supposed to be
Two glock .40s at all times
I'll shoot back if niggas shoot at me, you know it
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
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
My foreign cars – domestic beefs

Peter Luger's – 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 – I'm 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
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, I'm high as Denzel on Flight
Scared of 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 of 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
Pour it up, pop that ass out, make it rain, hoe
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?
I still got more money
Strippers goin' up and down that pole
And I still got my money
Four o'clock and we ain't 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
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