Lyrics:
dirty steps
Repeat my own and reflect my thoughts
Cold and uninviting, partially naked
Except for toffee wrappers and this morning's papers
Mr. Jones
dirty steps
Repeat my own and reflect my thoughts
Cold and uninviting, partially naked
Except for toffee wrappers and this morning's papers
Mr. Jones
Mr. Uncle Josh. Would you kindly play me some deep southern blues on that hound-dog guitar there. Ah, now that's what I'm talkin' about. Yeah.
When we were introduced by your girl Ruth
I knew that you got down
Skin caramel complexion
Lips chocolate brown
I'm wondering now
Would you
(originally by George Michael)
Looking for some education
Made my way into the night
All that bullshit conversation
Baby, can't you read the signs?
know
It's time that I take advantage, take command yo
Cops caught me red-handed
Blood On the Dance Floor
or was it Michael Jackson
give me dome
Baby girl come on
It's that nigga Baron Jones
Staring at my phone
Waiting on yo text
If I get you home
We gone have sex
Call up Mr.Gen5
Hold on
Wait that's me
Kick down yo dome
Just like Bruce Lee
He said drop the lo
But he know where I be
He a vegetarian, he ain't
I had a dream I was harassed by demons
They would kiss my ass if I ever get into Heaven
Now pick a number between six and seven
Whether you're
This how victory should taste b
Modern day Mike Jones they won’t embrace me
Run defenders in circles they wanna chase me
Spreading love is the focus
of skin
Love subverted by the need to fit in
Society, why are we watching CNN
The White House put me back to sleep again
Hatred killed another unarmed black
Foster, Quincy Jones they’re all on the roster!
Deep Purple, Toto and Sting, Will Downing, and the list doesn’t end.
God made me a Blue-Eyed Soul and I’m
Foster, Quincy Jones they’re all on the roster!
Deep Purple, Toto and Sting, Will Downing, and the list doesn’t end.
God made me a Blue-Eyed Soul and I’m
systems still rot
Still harassed by cops, snitches on blocks
Sellin they peoples out - some
Real folks with clout
Tavis Smiley, Michael Eric Dyson
Stokely
my teams balls
Call me MJ in my FJ
Car keys to the vallet
move like I'm in ballet
Cheer leaders pep rally
Got No pain, no first aid
I'm Mr. T,
like you at high altitude
So crack the Patron, it's on heathens, The God's back
Hard body, Mr. Jones never leaving
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
like you at high altitude
So crack the Patron, it's on heathens, The God's back
Hard body, Mr. Jones never leaving
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
sister, mi cousin a stash it fi me
We'll sell it by the pound and we'll sell it by the seed
Roll me a spliff (whoa)
Rub up a drum (whoa)
We burn
baby your last buck
Don't come quackin' like a duck
Do your duty
I heard you said you didn't love me
Down at Mrs. Brown
I don't believe a word
This is now so brilliant in ya system
Well pour me up yep
I need a big cup
Is we sipping by the ounce nigga yes sir
I ain't even trying to bounce
I'ma
I Mr. Thanksgiving
Its for the money this time
Howdy do motherfuckers its Weezy Baby,
Niggas bitchin' and I gotta toke the cannon.
Listen close
they're watchin?
Watch what you're watchin?
Me-me-me-media misleadin? ya
Watch what you're watchin?
So, Mr. Jones
I understand you've been experiencing
destination yeah I can't be late
It's Mr. Love Jones, renaissance, Mr Tate
Nothing for sell, we forming a fucking legacy
God is the pedigree you sleeping with
Sign right here Mr. Jones
The day the devil comes to getcha
He's a long way from home
And you know he's gonna getcha
Cause you're stuck in
_Album_Cover.jpg/220px-Mrs._Mills_(All_Time_Party_Dances)_Album_Cover.jpg "Mrs. Mills")
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