You got a like the Madonna crying tears of gold Been pumping gas at the Texaco, road to on the run Oh baby, yeah on the run Oh
Im not a trick, boy, Im a for you You me butterflies, heart skipping one two I know youre boy, I get the flu Im running thinking of your love, boo
move my soul like this Kissing my stilettos move your mouth up to my on over ghetto baby (He show me what you got girl) Come on ghetto baby (Drop it its hot girl)
I know your lips say that you wanna, but your a no But boy your say that you're gonna when you hold me, Hold me, so fun you are too much fun
My local rock star, The B. crew Im feeling you boy, you me too Im clocking left and right just to get to you Youre out there on the grind, now home to your queen, boo.
move my soul like this Kissing my stilettos, your mouth up to my lips Come on over ghetto (He said show me you got girl) Come on over baby (Drop it its hot girl)
Brooklyn move my like this Kissing my stilettos, move mouth up to my lips Come on ghetto baby (He show me what you got girl) Come on over ghetto (Drop it its hot girl)
Were a match made in heaven, if gonna talk let em If they dont think good together, baby just forget em hes bad, hes bad But when hes good, no ones were a match made in heaven and this kind of loves forever
Brooklyn move my soul like Kissing my stilettos, move your up to my lips Come on over ghetto (He said show me you got girl) Come on over ghetto (Drop it its hot girl)
Brooklyn move my soul this my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lips Come on over baby (He said show me you got girl) Come on over baby (Drop it its hot girl)