My fragance on and they love my smell/I still got my money/So who cares about what I spend
An ode to splashing your hard-earned wages in a strip club, Rihanna’s disinterested vocal, set against a backdrop of 80s horror movie synths and disjointed beats, is less Magic Mike and more the kind of seedy dead-eyed establishments you’d expect to find in a particularly bad Lindsay Lohan movie.