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