see (Mike Jones) So just walk away and let him be He?s got a shot*** so go back home (Who? Who?) 'Cause you?ll never get Mr. Jones (Mike Jones) I?m back
[Hook:] You can ride all day long Another mike diesel production (Mike Jones) But you'll never catch Mr. Jones (Mr. Jones) He's got a gang that's far
[Hook] You can ride all day long Another mike diesel production (Mike Jones) But you?ll never catch Mr. Jones (Mr. Jones) He?s got a gang that?s far
go Money over bitches and flowers over snitches Money over bitches and flowers over snitches Mr., Mr. Scarface, pistol into yardfish (What the hell is this)? Mr., Mr
Fingers we on the grind I'm in a Benz on Lorenz 24's in the wind My daily routine is pimpin pens I'm Mike Jones -who- Mike Jones -who- Mike Jones Swisher
you want me to cross the border? well come on baby you want me to cross the border? well come on baby (Boobonic) They call me A.J., A.K.A. Ant Jones
ain't in the frame VVS's stay in my chain (bling) they in my ring (There they go) You must of wrote your will already if your sayin our names Hell Rell, Mr
I gotta white, white, white cup You see my white, white, white cup I keep my white, white, white cup (Say, Flip, let your boy Mike Jones) (Get some
through the hood with a rifle Gunnin' niggaz down 'cause they don't got the right clothes Hit the wrong person 'cause we shoot just like hoes First I was blood thirsty, Mr.-Mr
South (Yeah) I ain't Mike Jones, keep my name outcha mouth bitch (Mike Jones) We can get it crackin' if it get to clickin' clackin' Look at Mr. Jackson
down South (YEAH!) I ain't Mike Jones, keep my name out'cha mouth (Mike Jones) We can get it crackin if it get to clickin clackin Look at Mr. Jackson
mr mike row phone he live with mrs jones believe in wrecks yer a fucking mess and winners never quit unlucky night for mr mike 'cause you cant cop yer soul mr mike
out House been on the hill, diamonds been in my grill I'm trill like U.G.K., you know I keep it real I'm who, Mike Jones, Who? Mike Jones Who? Mike Jones
block motherfucka D train, Al Gator, pop motherfucka Young drugs, young twins, Shiest Bug The niggaz I love, my niggaz, my thugs Now, come fuck with your boy Jones
It seems like everybody knows, how I get down and who I be, homie They say, Obie Trice gone, look at 'em Back then I was Mike Jones, who would even
feet Til death do us part, save my bullets for the charts With darts, like hbo watching after dark No love for a mark, even less for a trick That wanna be like mike, mike
Camp, Best Vemp chimped, or get licked like a mail stamp, amps and beats, technics is what I come with, gangsta's and pimps and balla's is who I fuck with... (Mr. Mike
treat it like home It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones The underground is mine, I treat it like home It's the reason *****z saying my name like Mike Jones
