"Big Banks (Remix)" lyrics - PITBULL

PITBULL

"Big Banks (Remix)"

[Intro:]
Album coming soon, expect the unexpected
DB, diaz brothers, remix

(We got) Cold needle
(We got) Big boo
(We got) Cold boy
(Walking through the club like our shit don't stops)
(We got) Rick Ross
(We got) P.O.I
(We got) E-Class
(We got) Diaz Brothers, whoooo!

[Verse 1: P.O.I]
Remember back in the days we used to smoke puffs
Ice or alligators, shurkled smuffs
Louis Vuitton, I used to rock it like the dons
Gucci with the things not painted on
Now the days done gone, and shit done changed
I went from a bum coat to a 6 rain
[?] Bacardi razz rains, light rate chains, prints is cut meng
Cheddar like [Bell, Peter?] up in the club
VIP with the black heater, thug bronze, smoking on blue sticky
They see me balling in this game and they wanna hit me, called nonsense
Let's go, [?] ball till I fall, that's my motto, in LA, NY, even in 4's
Sitting on tractor rims, with mexicans
Took packs again, want sex again
[With a dime?] it was told with me
By that boy AKA the P.O.I

[Hook:]
(We got) Big banks, big money, walking through the club like our shit don't stop
(We got) Big banks, big money, walking through the club like our shit don't stop
(We got) Big banks, big money, walking through the club like our shit don't stop
(We got) Big banks, big money, walking through the club like our shit don't stop

[Verse 2: Pitbull]
Pit's got 'em looking out like the Tri-State Snipers, so watch out! (watch out)
When I was young, I used to drop tops and spin them
Now I'm predicted to drop tops on drops, sitting on spinners (hahaha)
And I'm not gonna stop 'til my pockets look beat up, filled up with knots
But words are spit, I'm worth more than any verse I spit, I hustle rap, I serve y'all quick
In school I never had a 4.O, but my Range Rovers' gonna' read 4.6
Teachers always told me I was a smart kid, so it's only right I push smart whips
So when I pull up pushing, something, sitting on rims older than me (older than me)
Hopping out with [Courtney?] and Rick Ross, Diaz and DB (DB)
Y'all can witness the come up, from a poor boy to a rich boy
It ain't my fault, y'all eat where where ya shit boy
Who's that cuban tha's gonna' have a big bank, uh?, that's pit boy!

[Verse 3:? ?] the way that Ferrari vibe break the party
Collecting more chips than ladies at sex parties
Me? I, be with P.O.I, till' I'm calm
Resting in the Bronx with Chron stones to V double
Look around where you stay at, 'cause it's like trouble
Who watch us? My man Ricky Ross, six inch steel
Gonna toil for those who gon' test the calicoe wrist
Can't forget E-Class, sniper like, even with perif
We'll view your little sight
With so much ice, we turn night into day
We too fly, at the front of The Source Awards (Redeye)

Unleashed Volume 1 (2001)