You got a face like the Madonna tears of gold Been pumping gas at the Texaco, road to 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 youre boy, I get the flu Im running thinking of your love, boo
Brooklyn my soul like this my stilettos move your mouth up to my lips Come on ghetto baby (He said 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 when you hold me, Hold me, so fun B-baby you are too fun
My local star, The Willy B. crew Im feeling you boy, you me too Im clocking chicks left and right to get to you out there on the grind, now come home to your queen, boo.
Brooklyn my soul like this Kissing my stilettos, your mouth up to my lips on over ghetto baby (He said me what you got girl) Come on ghetto baby (Drop it its hot girl)
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 baby (Drop it its hot girl)
Were a match made in heaven, if theyre gonna let em If they dont think were good together, baby forget em hes bad, hes bad But when hes good, no better 'Cause a match made in heaven and this kind of loves forever
Brooklyn my soul like this Kissing my stilettos, move mouth up to my lips on over ghetto baby (He said me what you got girl) Come on ghetto baby (Drop it its hot girl)
Brooklyn move my soul like my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lips Come on ghetto baby (He said show me you got girl) Come on ghetto baby (Drop it its hot girl)