Mr. Put It On

Yeah, yeah

Call me, call me Mr. Put It On

Way I rock these clothes, fuck a lot of hoes

And I bring poles in all my shows

Yeezy shoes, them bitches look like Crocs on sports mode

Huh, I done did some shit that I can't say, but Lord knows

I rock Dior B22, boy, you can't afford those

I got gas, bowls, twenty-two a bag, get you some loads

Exotic weed, you hit the blunt, it might burn up your nose

I don't got no camera flash, but I be crashing with them poles, huh

Catch a opp, put him on the camera and make him strike a pose

I ain't saving shit for later, no container, but I'm selling bowls

Aye, lil baby, I'm a player, we fuck hoes, but we don't cuff the hoes

Real trap ****, we serving Jays, bitch I got custom hoes (Yeah)

My bro got fish scales, fish scales, yeah, my bro, he serving fish scales

His drank, ain't real, thought you sipped drank, how you can't tell?

I put the trap on wizz, and I had rode, bitch, I got clientele

Whatever drugs can get you high, the drugs that I be tryna sell

I was lit like Beals, sipping drank, bitch, I was popping seals

Started popping pills, like the same day my partner got killed

All my bros in jail, they can pick me up, but I won't tell

I'm Mr. Put It On, Dior kicks on my toenails

Call me Mr. Put It On

Way I rock them clothes, fuck a lot of hoes

And I bring poles in all my shows

Yeezy shoes, them bitches look like Crocs on sports mode

Huh, I done did some shit that I can't say, but Lord knows

Call me, call me Mr. Put It On

Way I rock these clothes, fuck a lot of hoes

And I bring poles in all my shows

Yeezy shoes, them bitches look like Crocs on sports mode

Huh, I done did some shit that I can't say, but Lord knows