Jones - JR Donato et Wiz Khalifa Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de Jones de JR Donato, Wiz Khalifa

Jones est une chanson de JR Donato, Wiz Khalifa pour laquelle les lyrics ont été ajoutés le mercredi 02 octobre 2013.

Les paroles de Jones ont été relues et mises en page, cependant, il est possible qu'elles contiennent encore des fautes. N'hésitez pas à prendre contact par mail.

Le clip de Jones est disponible ci-dessous.


[Refrain]
I've been all around the world
Rolling weed up, getting stoned
Got a whole pound of smoke
Only need a different strong
Bought a big ass whip like Indiana Jones
Let my niggas down but let it clap
Met her in my section, took her to my home
Now she fuckin with the gang
Thinkin that's a loss for them
Niggas savin hoes like Indiana Jones
But this rack, she gon make it clap

Donato
Let the jacket on styler uh
Donato, I'm whilin uh
Flight might be private, I'm talkin shit to the pilot
Fuck that sparkler pound,
Can't touch the ground with flies too
Don't crap out your trial up
My trap house is bout to boom
Cop blunts out in Indiana, it's nothing like bada boom
Got guns out that locker room, she wippin that chopper shoot
I knock off his top like tutu
He couldn't even tie his shoe
J.R. they ain't hot as you
I sleep where them choppas spray
Okay
Indiana Jones
Getting it strapped
Is the lasso strong?
Finna get me that work
No shot, get murked
I'm the kid of Walt Kegan
Thought about it this evening
Telling these ratchets
You bout that action
Do it Jurassic, flippin that package
Soon as it land them bullies be rapid
Give em classic,
Do this for the club
We got turnt up, I ain't tryna cut
I just want the top
I might want a cut

[Refrain]
I've been all around the world
Rolling weed up, getting stoned
Got a whole pound of smoke
Only need a different strong
Bought a big ass whip like Indiana Jones
Let my niggas down but let it clap
Met her in my section, took her to my home
Now she fuckin with the gang
Thinkin that's a loss for them
Niggas savin hoes like Indiana Jones
But this rack, she gon make it clap

Yea, my neck filled with rare stones
Yea, I'm getting head like headphones
Red meat, red wine, bad red bone
Probably just gave me some knowledge
I give her 10 grand for one pair of clothes probably
She call me
Tellin me she home alone with no colleague
So tired of monotony
Anything new that you try to go copy
Scars on my body
Lovely and gnarly
Love rolling weed, love to fuck, like to party
Maaan, niggas ain't what they call themselves
Damn, ain't turned so they draw themselves
You tell me you hot, man I tell you to stop it
In fact I'mma tell you what's poppin
I just bought a jet and I got her, she drop...daamn
Boy she the man
Young boy, tattoos to his chin but you and your friends
I got the juice and the jam
Got shit from Japan,
Grab shit from the pan
Stick to the brand
Flight in yo back if shit hit the fan

[Refrain]
I've been all around the world
Rolling weed up, getting stoned
Got a whole pound of smoke
Only need a different strong
Bought a big ass whip like Indiana Jones
Let my niggas down but let it clap
Met her in my section, took her to my home
Now she fuckin with the gang
Thinkin that's a loss for them
Niggas savin hoes like Indiana Jones
But this rack, she gon make it clap


Note : 1 étoile2 étoiles3 étoiles4 étoiles5 étoiles
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