Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jukebox Joints, artist - A$AP Rocky. Date of issue: 25.05.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Jukebox Joints |
| And I’m a man of my word, that I got nothing at all |
| So tell me now does it hurt, or is it too late? |
| I’m a man of my law, I gotta keep my weight up |
| But who will lean if I fall? |
| But never mind, I’m fly, you know |
| She the type to seek love and make it everlasting |
| I’m the type to wake up and say you’re never having |
| I mean I fucked the girl with hella passion |
| But it’s cold how we smashing |
| Left her sleeping on a separate mattress |
| I think her body makes for better practice |
| Good excuse for my absence like «Flacko where your ass been?» |
| Heard you done with fashion, now yo ass is acting |
| I’m tripping off the acid, now yo ass is looking massive |
| This ain’t the shit equipped with columns from my reckless swagging |
| This that dark house party with this record blasting |
| Rolling spliffs, clique beside me, fingers Liberace |
| When I seen this bitch in Venice, Tommy and some mean Huaraches |
| I’m all alone though, mood music makes me bop slower |
| Trippin' on how I shifted pop culture |
| Changed Hip-Hop on ya, smoking like a rasta was my pops culture |
| I be damned if I die sober |
| I’ll be sure to visit Pac for ya |
| And shout outs my pretty women in the spot tonight |
| Let em see them fuckin' hands |
| And for the freaks that love the niggas with the Jeeps |
| Lex, coupes and the Beamers and the Benz, come again |
| When my death calls, I pray the Lord accept collect calls |
| Cause I be playing with these womens like they’re sex dolls |
| Call my Prada prior, cause it’s dropping next fall |
| Don’t you short the next ball, my closet like the Met ball |
| She said, «I just love it when you speak soft-spoken |
| Up in the magazines with your teeth all golden» |
| Took the whole year off just to learn to make beats |
| Dropped the flames on my release and leave the streets all smokin' |
| That touch your soul music, I get you higher, grab your lighter fluid |
| Might add a preacher and a choir to it |
| I speak the father’s music, hallelujah |
| Always Strive &Prosper, stupid |
| Even Montell can’t tell you how he do it |
| Sit back and watch me do it |
| Okay let’s get past all the swag trapping and fashion talking |
| You want that take it to gats or keep it in rapping talking |
| They rapping bars it get embarrassed, it actually happens often |
| You my son like my last abortion, I’m just laughing off it |
| I changed rap with fashion four way, yeah I’m that important |
| You jack my style, she jack me off, and y’all both acting awkward? |
| Jiggling baby, nah, go ahead bitch |
| Ain’t nothing better than the pretty big forehead bitch |
| Listen close I got some shit to tell you, motherfuckers get familliar |
| It’s not just model bitches on my genitalia |
| Did Azalea’s from Australia, trips to Venezuela |
| Cinderella’s under my umbrella for different weather |
| Ella, ella, ay just play it like I didn’t tell ya |
| Niggas taking pictures any time we get together |
| And hope to fly away one day just like some love birds |
| Only one word I’m afraid of is the «love"word |
| More power to you, more power to you my lovely one |
| More power to you, more power to you my lonely one |
| More power to you, more power to you my lovely one |
| What’s up bruh? |
| That all depends |
| With friends like you, who needs friends |
| Sometimes the best advice is no advice |
| Especially when it’s your advice |
| Man remember |
| Your man was on stage dressed like a family member |
| Man everything basic to Ye Guevara |
| That means Saint Laurent is my Zara |
| I remember Rochelle ain’t wanna fuck me with the polo |
| Ay bitch you missed out, hashtag #Fomo |
| I got one child, one child |
| But I’m fuckin', fuckin', fuckin' like I’m tryna make four more |
| They wanna throw me under a white jail |
| Cause I’m a black man with confidence of a white male |
| Hallelujah |