Mr. Put It On by Guapo Lyrics
[Intro]
Yeah
I need 100 Keyz
Yeah, call me
[Chorus]
Call me "Mr. Put It On" the 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 sport mode, huh
I done did some shit that I can't say, but lord knows
[Verse]
I rock Dior B22, boy, you can't afford those
I got gas bowls for 22, a band get yourself some lows, uh
Exotic weed, you hit the blunt, it might burn up your nose, yeah
I don't got no camera flash, but I be crashin' with them poles, huh
Catch an opp, put him on the camera and make him strike a pose
I ain't savin' shit for later, no container, but I'm sellin' bowls
Ayy, lil' baby, I'm a player, we fuck hoes, but we don't cuff those
Rеal trap nigga, we servin' jays, bitch, I got customs
My bro got fishscales, fishscalеs
Yeah, my bro he servin' fishscales
His drank ain't real
Thought you sip drank, how you can't tell?
I put the trap on wheels and I roll, bitch, I got clientele
Whatever drugs can get you high the drugs that I'm tryna sell
I was [?] sippin' drank, bitch, I was poppin' seals
Started poppin' pills like the same day my partner got killed
All my bros in jail, they could pick me up, but I won't tell
I'm Mr. Put It On, Dior kicks on my toenails
[Chorus]
Call me "Mr. Put It On" the 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 sport mode, huh
I done did some shit that I can't say, but lord knows
Call me "Mr. Put It On" the 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 sport mode, huh
I done did some shit that I can't say, but lord knows
Yeah
I need 100 Keyz
Yeah, call me
[Chorus]
Call me "Mr. Put It On" the 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 sport mode, huh
I done did some shit that I can't say, but lord knows
[Verse]
I rock Dior B22, boy, you can't afford those
I got gas bowls for 22, a band get yourself some lows, uh
Exotic weed, you hit the blunt, it might burn up your nose, yeah
I don't got no camera flash, but I be crashin' with them poles, huh
Catch an opp, put him on the camera and make him strike a pose
I ain't savin' shit for later, no container, but I'm sellin' bowls
Ayy, lil' baby, I'm a player, we fuck hoes, but we don't cuff those
Rеal trap nigga, we servin' jays, bitch, I got customs
My bro got fishscales, fishscalеs
Yeah, my bro he servin' fishscales
His drank ain't real
Thought you sip drank, how you can't tell?
I put the trap on wheels and I roll, bitch, I got clientele
Whatever drugs can get you high the drugs that I'm tryna sell
I was [?] sippin' drank, bitch, I was poppin' seals
Started poppin' pills like the same day my partner got killed
All my bros in jail, they could pick me up, but I won't tell
I'm Mr. Put It On, Dior kicks on my toenails
[Chorus]
Call me "Mr. Put It On" the 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 sport mode, huh
I done did some shit that I can't say, but lord knows
Call me "Mr. Put It On" the 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 sport mode, huh
I done did some shit that I can't say, but lord knows