Lyrics Tip Jar - World's Fair

Tip Jar

One got a nice rack
One got a bubble butt
Only one Metro card
Show you how they double up
Shake her double Ds, but her friend kinda flat
She can make that ass clap
Two broke girls in the city
With a?
pass
Speaking out the tray
Show me where the fun at
Playin' hard to get
Cause they been did done that
At the open bar
Show me where the fun’s at
Who got a dollar
Who, who got a dollar
Who got a dollar
Who, who got a dollar for the tip jar
Dominican physique, like Raffaelo Ts
Mama turnin' 23 by the end of the week
But she’s really 17
You’d better keep it discrete
Band around her head matches the Toms on her feet
How she tryin' to ride clean with a Metro card, great
Hair gelled down and her ringtone, The-Dream
Fuck with bitches in class
I fuck with bitches with class
Dollars, BBQ, she ask
You got cash
Now that?
She tried to pay the cab with a gift card
It bounced back, I got that
That sounds a bit odd
God damn, my date is runnin' late
She text me 'round six
It’s now 8:28
I swear, at 8:30, I’ll dip
Fuck how this girl feel
I ain’t tryin' to be the motherfucking third wheel
Chill
Man, these chicks runnin' games true
And I ain’t got a dollar for they motherfucking train home
Hit Jerome’s, and I ran into some broke hoes
ASking me for weed
Shorty, that’s a no-no
Drunk hoes, bitches hailin' from the suburbs
Tryin' to hang around a nigga
Prayin' for some free herb
They need to be around the green
Lookin' like a crouton
It’s funny how you the first victim
That they can mooch on
At the bar, drinkin' a Stella
They get their groove on
Cool, calm, collected
But the pussy is lukewarm
Professionals, they been doin' this for too long
Shorty tryin' to flex like I don’t know the tricks
Drinkin' from my cup
Tryin' to take big sips
Walkin' 'round the bar
Lookin' for a bogie
Tryin' to catch a ride home
Actin' like she know me
Hey ma, what’s up
I’m broke, me too
Oh well, I’m dippin' on a cab tonight
Haha, broke ass