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Nopți albe

Album cover art for "Nopți albe" by Rihanna & T.I. & Juicy J & Rick Ross & Jeezy

Rihanna & T.I. & Juicy J & Rick Ross & Jeezy - R&B, Pop

Nopți albe

112.2K Plays

March 20, 2013.

Lyrics

[Intro: Young Jeezy] Say, Riri, let's take this shit to the street one time, you know? (It's the remix, yeah) Throwin' hundreds like loose change, still got my money (Ay) Got your broad in that Mulsanne, that Bentley homie (Haha) Seats whiter than cocaine (Yeah), that .40 on me Got me and G, she bring broads, mane She like my homie (Let's go!) [Verse 1: 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 ho niggas be actin' foul (Yeah) 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 it's supposed to be (Yeeeah) Two Glock .40s at all time, gon' shoot him back, a nigga shoot at me, you know it Haha, yeah [Pre-Chorus: Rihanna] Oh-ohh-ohh, ohh, oh-oh-oh All I see is signs, all I see is dolla' signs Oh-ohh-ohh, ohh, oh-oh-oh Money on my mind, money, money on my mind Throw it, throw it up Watch it fall out from the sky [Chorus: Rihanna & Rick Ross] 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 worldwide, what's up?) That's how we ball out (Fuck with me, huh? Yeah) (M-M-M-M-Maybach Music) That's how we ball out [Verse 2: Rick Ross] 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 (Haha) Baby, do the math, I'm coppin' Chanel bags Talkin' Belle Harbour, cigars by Hermes (Woo) Know we ran the streets, eatin' cold bully beef (Huh) Now we at the Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet (Ah) Boss on the avi, Rihanna screensaver Whenever you see fat boy, I know it mean paper M-M-Maybach Music [Verse 3: Juicy J] We trippy, mane Uh (Yeah, ho) Juicy J pourin' up codeine, Benz all white, no chlorine (Yeah, ho) 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 (Yeah, ho) 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 poppin' pills, we goin' 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 saying? It must be the drugs (Drugs, 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 (Yeah, ho) [Verse 4: Rihanna] Strip clubs and dolla' bills, I still got mo' money Patron shots, can I get a refill I still got mo' money Strippers going up and down that pole And I still got mo' money Four o'clock and we ain't going home, 'cause I still got mo' money Money make the world go round, I still got mo' money Bands make your girl go down, I still got mo' money Lot more where that came from, I still got mo' money The look in your eyes I know you want some, I still got mo' money [Interlude: Rihanna & T.I.] Pour it up, pour it up 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) [Verse 5: T.I. & Rihanna] 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 bad bitches like Riri 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 keys and then stimulate the economy, like [Pre-Chorus: Rihanna & T.I.] Oh-ohh-ohh, ohh, oh-oh-oh (Yup) All I see is signs (Hey), all I see is dolla' signs (Yup) Oh-ohh-ohh, ohh, oh-oh-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) [Chorus: Rihanna] 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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