Luyện nghe bài hát Ghetto Baby

You got a face like the Madonna crying tears of
pumping gas at the Texaco, road to road
on the run
Oh baby, youre on the run
Oh

Im not a trick, boy, Im a for you
You give me butterflies, heart one two
I youre sick boy,
I get the flu
Im running temperatures of your love, boo

Brooklyn move my soul this
Kissing my stilettos move your mouth up to my
on over ghetto baby
(He show me what you got girl)
Come on over ghetto
(Drop it its hot girl)

I know lips say that you wanna, but your hearts a no
But boy your hips say that you're gonna you hold me,
me, youre so fun
B-baby you are too fun

My local rock star, The B. crew
Im you boy, you liking me too
Im clocking left and right just to get to you
out there on the grind, now come home to your queen, boo.

Brooklyn move my soul this
Kissing my stilettos, your mouth up to my lips
on over ghetto baby
(He said me what you got girl)
on over ghetto baby
(Drop it its hot girl)

Brooklyn my soul like this
Kissing my stilettos, move your up to my lips
on over ghetto baby
(He show me what you got girl)
Come on ghetto baby
(Drop it its hot girl)

a match made in heaven, if theyre gonna talk let em
If they dont think good together, baby just forget em
hes bad, hes bad
But when hes good, no better
were a match made in heaven and this kind of loves forever

Brooklyn move my soul this
Kissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my
Come on ghetto baby
(He said show me you got girl)
Come on over ghetto
(Drop it its hot girl)

move my soul like this
Kissing my stilettos, move your up to my lips
Come on over ghetto
(He show me what you got girl)
on over ghetto baby
(Drop it its hot girl)