letra de mr. jones (feat. future) - pop smoke feat. future
oh-oh
oh-oh, oh
said we in miami (oh, ooh, oh, oh)
we just left mr. jones (oh-oh, ooh, ooh, ooh)
with a hundred b-tches that’s down
ready to f-ck (oh, oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
yeah
said we in miami, we just left mr. jones
with a hundred b-tches that’s down, ready to f-ck
she said she wanna be a bartender
i’m like, “your ass ain’t fat enough”
before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
she like, “papi, can you give me fifty-five hundred?”
i ain’t givin’ you sh-t unless you suckin’ all of us
she went upstairs and gave my lil’ homie some p-ssy
the lil’ n-gga f-cked around and got sprung
she came out the room like, “papi, my ass hurt”
she just put up with mad work, yeah
you worried ’bout the wrong thing
that’s bad work, it’s ’bout the cash first
when you down, we run up that shower
break it down in the back, girl
if i say that you mine, that mean that you ours
you can’t put me first, that’s backwards
said we in miami, we just left mr. jones
with a hundred b-tches that’s down, ready to f-ck
she said she wanna be a bartender
i’m like, “your ass ain’t fat enough”
before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
she like, “papi, can you give me fifty-five hundred?”
i ain’t givin’ you sh-t unless you suckin’ all of us
she went upstairs and gave my lil’ homie some p-ssy
the lil’ n-gga f-cked around, n-gga, got sprung
we in sky-ami (we in miami)
we all the way up (all the way up)
got a hunnid b-tches in the vip, better go f-ck (better go f-ck)
b-tch can’t put no panties on, got dope in my coat
take a b-tch to the jeweler, drop a big bag on a b-tch drip, yeah
top of the penthouse, it’s a personal shopper bringin’ fine threads
my b-tch gon’ step on a b-tch in dior
smokin’ out a pound, drink out the bottle
mermaid, p-ssy taste like some water
jimmy choos shoes, manolo blahnik
copped the new jewels just for the fun of it
got the number two, shorty rewind
got the plaques, now she found out her own
got the smashes, every day like a goon
million dollars, it take me on the moon
i be takin’ sh-t down like a tycoon
‘lotta solitaires, straight on patron
sagittarius when i walk in a room
tell the baddest b-tches i’m mr. jones
tell the baddest b-tches i’m mr. jones
tell the baddest b-tches i’m mr. jones
(i’m outta here, hahaha)
said we in miami (we in miami)
we just left mr. jones (just left mr. jones)
with a hundred b-tches that’s down, ready to f-ck (ready to f-ck)
she said she wanna be a bartender
i’m like, “your ass ain’t fat enough”
before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck (oh yeah)
said we in miami (we in miami)
we just left mr. jones (just left mr. jones)
with a hundred b-tches that’s down, ready to f-ck (ready to f-ck)
she said she wanna be a bartender
i’m like, “your ass ain’t fat enough” (fat enough)
before you get that, you better go get a tummy tuck
she like, “papi, can you give me fifty-five hundred?”
i ain’t givin’ you sh-t unless you suckin’ all of us
she went upstairs and gave my lil’ homie some p-ssy
the lil’ n-gga f-cked around, n-gga, got sprung
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