Artist/Band:
Pitbull
Lyrics for Song: Jam On It (feat. Fat Joe and Rick Ross)
Lyrics for Album: Other Songs - Pitbull
[Pitbull]
Fat Joe, The Don
And Mr. Worldwide, reporting live from Ibiza
Ross the Boss, Mr. Mauricio
Our new paper can buy these newspapers
Millions now, billions later
You gotta love these haters
[Mr. Mauricio]
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
[Pitbull]
Mr. 305, the Mr. Worldwide
The Mr. take nothing, make something, that's right
From hanging with thug, goons and gangsters
To doing business with investors, attorneys and bankers
Same story, different suits
Same chico, just a little different roof
Instead of the corner of the block
It's the corner of the office, I'm nauseous from offers
And when I see women
It's ménages they offer and you know that I'm all for
Especially if they both on all fours
And you can keep ‘em dawg, they all yours
Two seven figure, Dade county boys
Not even John Lennon could imagine that
Our new paper can buy their newspapers
Millions now, billions later
[Mr. Mauricio]
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
[Rick Ross]
Got a bitch for him, got a bitch for me
A bitch that live a bitch KOD
Made the office some offers, bitch bringing me offers
Your big tongue bitch, she swimming with dolphins, nigga
Get wet, cars keep ridin’ by
I'm smoking my wax, I keep getting high
I don't bop, I still money dance
I don't walk, we run this, man
[Mr. Mauricio]
Drop it to the floor, let's go
Now little mama get low
Shake that ass, then grab that pole
Drop it low, let's go
Now little mama to the floor
Shake that ass, then grab that pole
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
[Fat Foe]
I jam on it, I jam on it
Bitch scream like the scene, Chochone
She yellin’ mousseline, smelling cheese all on this
You need new jeans cause you pooped all on it
Oh Lord, twerk (twerk, twerk)
Hannah Montana I serve
Versace roll up on Versace dower
Even put a bid in on a Versace house
She no speak-a Inglés and my dog foreign
Brazilian head and that ass she was born with
Pay attention, you bitches can't afford
Pronounce it, what’s that, nigga just pour it
[Mr. Mauricio]
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
I tell ‘em, tell ‘em jam on it
Jam on it, jam on it
J-j-j-j-j-jam on it
[Pitbull]
Mr. Mauricio
Mr. Worldwide
Seven figures, Dade county boys
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