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Lyrics:
Whoo!
Roxanne, (Its Khals bitches! Owww!) You don't have to turn off your red light...
[Fat Joe:]
Static!
Let's make it rain on these niggaz (Remix!)
[Lil Wayne:] [chorus]
Yeah, I'm in this xxxxx with the terror
Gotta handful of stacks, better grab an umbrella
I make it rain, I make it rain
I'm in this xxxxx with the terror
Gotta handful of stacks, better grab an umbrella
I make it rain, I make it rain, make it rain on them hoes
I make it rain, I make it rain, make it rain on them hoes
I make it rain, I make it rain, make it rain on them hoes
I make it rain, I make it rain, make it rain on them hoes
[R Kelly:]
I'd be drilling these chicks like Major Payne
When i make it rain
theyd be like yo do it again
from the club to the coupe inside my gates
up in my bedroom screaming each others name
They was perty perty (perty)
and i was flirty flirty (flirty)
Lil Dro Lil Buck now they gettin durty durty (durty)
dont ask me what my name is
stupid xxxxx im famous
You gon make me aim this
Leave yo xxx brainless
Im tryna stay R&B
but these streets is a part of me
So dont get it twisted
You see order 1 bottle
then I xxxx with 1 model
then I order more bottles
now I got more models
Im from that city where them niggaz dont play man
I take a chick to my room like caveman
So ask ur girlfriend my name
I bet she go "Skeet, Skeet, Skeet, Skeet, weatherman bout to make it rain
[chorus]
[Lil wayne:]
Blat Blat Blat Blat Hey Joe eh lemme get em
Its young money and we on like the television
The weather channel but i do not broadcast
I throw up more cash
and change the forecast
Ur boyfriend is lame
i make it rain on ya
he never make it rain
like southern california
wheres ur umberella
now getcha raincoat
baby i make it flood now u gon need a boat
[Birdman:]
Fresh to death on 'em
We throwin' money on 'em
Stay fly, 25s when we ride on 'em
Alligator suede, custom with the shades
Make it snow in the club, xxxxxxx know we paid
Stay shy rockin' Gucci in the Bentley (Super fly)
White rose for my broad on them 23s
Goin' to the club, nigga in a new fleet
All red doors up, doin' it like a real G
[chorus]
[T.I.:]
Come see me a crackin', in the club flossin'
40 thou' in my stacks, 20 stacks in my jeans
No real boss niggaz do real boss things
We bout that shit, you just talkin'
You'nna slang rocks then how with my girls
In the 430 down the strip I zoom?
Gonna drop it day real but I feel like Joe
Big glock I carry make a real big BOOM
Make moves like a young tycoon
come through like a young typhoon
Category 3, don't be category me nigga
Like you can get a better salary to me ah
El capitan, game Numbero Uno
I flood xxxxx clubs, ask any stripper you know
[Ace Mack:]
Ace mizzy get all the hoes
Gotta teach them xxxx they want to know
Like xxxx that xxxxx xxx 94 girl
Make that bucket a pot of gold
It ain't no money like custom money
It ain't no xxxxx like a hustle bunny
Ain't no xxxxx gettin' none of my money
That why the money gotta clip to protect it from me
She gotta ride for the A, hop for the A
Live for the minute or be out for the day
Hop the metal while lookin hot in stilettos
Gotta rock with a bezzle on the trigger finger
Boss xxxxx of the ghetto, my Spanish Trina
Talk xxxx to a nigga with the 'blama beamed up
When I see her gotta handle my be
I gotta give her one of these in the back of the team truck
[chorus]
Make it rain, Make it rain, Make it rain, Make it rain, Make it rain, Make it rain, Make it rain, Make it rain,
[Rick Ross:]
I be reppin my city
Blowin hundreds and fiftys
If the head right Ricky there every night
Joey I was listenin'
pullin up spinnin' rims
Time to spend some dividends
My money they swimmin' in
Ross, I'm a boss (I'm a boss) I'm the mayor (I'm the mayor)
Make it rain (Make it rain!), on these haters (on these haters!)
Get your umbrella fella, cause we blowin'
hella chedda, I'm the nigga that you scared of
Cause no one can do it better
[Fat Joe:]
Your crack girly
80s crack baby's momma paid me
Maybach, fly Mercedes
Twerk that, drop it baby
Them perty ladies, they drive me crazy
Them skies is hazy, I'll pop like 80
Someone tell Mr. Bentley to bring his umbrella
Katrina not, its just a one fella
Who got dumb chedda, and need a brain surgeon
Got me a designated thrower, cause my hand's hurtin'
I make it rain, its coca xxxxx
It's not a game, them vatos locos rich
Ain't nothing wrong with wanting a little happy ending
And we don't need a hotel, we parkin lot pimpin'
Bitch!
