Chris Brown
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Mona Lisa (Feat. Kevin McCall)

Chris Brown


Put your ass up on that pole
Put your ass up on that pole
Put your ass up on that pole
Put your ass up on that pole
Put your ass up on that pole
Put your ass up on that pole
Put your ass up on that pole
Put-Put your-your ass-ass-ass

Girl, you wanna play with me, baby
Money ain't a thing 'cause I got paper
I'm lookin' at your body
You about to get exactly what you came for
Now I can throw it up, throw it up
break it down, down, down
Even if it ain't loud, she gets me aroused
Slow it up, slow it up, slow down
You the shit, you the shit
Go 'head play with it, baby
'Cause I'ma keep my hands to myself and my back on the wall
Gon' play with it, baby
I know you don't give a fuck
'cause you gon' get your money up

I, I, I, ah
Get your ass up on that pole, get this money in my hand
I, I, I, ah
All this money drippin' on you like paint from a Mona Lisa
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Drop to the floor, bitch
Ah-ah, ah-ah
All this money drippin' on you like paint from a Mona Lisa

Uh, I fucked with my first bitch, I upgrade my second broad
Corporate my credit card, vintage out my fuckin' watch
Vintage out my fuckin' cars, no Steve-O, just fuckin' yacht
Your new bitch, my old bitch
you can have the ho 'cause she talk a lot
Now get your ass up on this pole, you can get this money
Now I got them carats, I got all them Playboy bunnies
Come shake it for daddy, I'm throwin' them hunnids
Racks on top of racks and Maybachs look like onions

And that ass big as a mountain, put my drink on it, she cold
My zipper down, but my money up
better get your ass up on that pole
Two more shots then I'm out, blacka-blacka, then I reload
Got it, might earn twenty more, get your ass up on that pole
Damn, look at Lakeisha gettin' that money just like a zesta
All of these bunnies, bunnies, hoppin' and poppin'
You fightin' to get up in my two-seater
My chain, six rings
Bitch, I'm in the motherfuckin' game

I, I, I, ah
Get your ass up on that pole, get this money in my hand
I, I, I, ah
All this money drippin' on you like paint from a Mona Lisa
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Drop to the floor, bitch
Ah-ah, ah-ah
All this money drippin' on you like paint from a Mona Lisa

I don't make it rain
Nigga, I make it monsoon like a tidal wave
We takin' twenty-three shots, that's a MJ
I mean a fadeaway, we 'bout to fade away
She said she like my pants, I think she like my pockets
Bitch, I'm in the buildin' countin' millions
you should try it
Yeah, what d'you mean?
She tried to kiss me, I said, "Stop it"
Put that money in her face, then she get that pussy poppin'

I, I, I, ah
Get your ass up on that pole, get this money in my hand
I, I, I, ah
All this money drippin' on you like paint from a Mona Lisa
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Drop to the floor, bitch
Ah-ah, ah-ah
All this money drippin' on you like paint from a Mona Lisa
Compositor: Chris Brown

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