Pop Smoke – “Mr. Jones” (ft. Future) [Audio, Lyrics]

Date 2021-07-17

Category Foreign Music, Lyrics, New Music

Off the second posthumous body of work by Pop Smoke is the song, “Mr. Jones” featuring Future and co-produced by JW Lucas, CashMoneyAP, Foreign Teck & LosTheProducer. Listen, stream, read the lyrics, buy the song.

Pop Smoke Mr. Jones

Pop Smoke Mr. Jones

“Mr. Jones,” not to be confused with the Counting Crows classic of the same name, features a guest appearance from Future, who also contributed to Shoot For The Stars. This time, the pair take to a hypnotic instrumental cooked up by JW Lucas, CashMoneyAP, Foreign Teck & LosTheProducer. The mysterious beat adds an alluring layer of mystique; not menacing, but vaguely melancholic. Both rappers know exactly how to plan their approach, with Pop and Future alike delivering laid-back but fluid reflections on high-life hedonism.

Pop Smoke – Mr. Jones (ft. Future) (prod. JW Lucas, CashMoneyAP, Foreign Teck & LosTheProducer)

Lyrics

[Intro: Pop Smoke & 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 bitches that’s down, ready to fuck
Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh-oh
Look

[Chorus: Pop Smoke]
Said we in Miami, we just left Mr. Jones
With a hundred bitches that’s down, ready to fuck
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

[Post-Chorus: Pop Smoke]
She like, “Papi, can you give me fifty-five hundred?”
I ain’t givin’ you shit unless you suckin’ all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil’ homie some pussy
The lil’ nigga fucked around, nigga, he got sprung

[Verse 1: Pop Smoke]
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

[Chorus: Pop Smoke]
Said we in Miami, we just left Mr. Jones
With a hundred bitches that’s down, ready to fuck
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

[Post-Chorus: Pop Smoke]
She like, “Papi, can you give me fifty-five hundred?”
I ain’t givin’ you shit unless you suckin’ all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil’ homie some pussy
The lil’ nigga fucked around, he got sprung

[Verse 2: Future]
We in Sky-ami (We in Sky-ami)
Go all the way up (All the way up)
Got a hunnid bitches in the VIP, better go fuck (Better go fuck)
Bitch can’t put no panties on, got dope in my cup (Yee)
Take a bitch to the jeweler, drop a big bag on a bitch drip, yeah
Top of the penthouse, it’s a personal shopper bringin’ fire and fresh you can’t find in the store
My bitch gon’ step on a bitch in Dior
Smokin’ out the pound, drink out the bottle
Mermaid, pussy taste like some water
Jimmy Choos shoes, Manolo Blahniks
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, drip got me on the moon
I be takin’ shit down like a tycoon
All the solitaries tryna patrol
Sagittarius when I walk in a room
Tell the baddest bitches, I’m Mr. Jones (I’m Mr. Jones)
Tell the baddest bitches, I’m Mr. Jones (I’m Mr. Jones)
Tell the baddest bitches, I’m Mr. Jones (I’m Mr. Jones)
(I’m outta here, hahaha)

[Chorus: Future, Pop SmokeBoth]
Said we in Miami (We in Miami), we just left Mr. Jones (Just left Mr. Jones)
With a hundred bitches that’s down, ready to fuck (Ready to fuck)
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 Sky-ami), we just left Mr. Jones (Just left Mr. Jones)
With a hundred bitches that’s down, ready to fuck (Ready to fuck)
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

[Post-Chorus: Pop Smoke]
She like, “Papi, can you give me fifty-five hundred?”
I ain’t givin’ you shit unless you suckin’ all of us
She went upstairs and gave my lil’ homie some pussy
The lil’ nigga fucked around, nigga, he got sprung

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