You got a face like the crying tears 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 youre boy, I get the flu Im running thinking of your love, boo
Brooklyn move my soul like Kissing my stilettos move mouth up to my lips Come on over baby (He show me what you got girl) Come on over ghetto (Drop it its hot girl)
I know your lips say that you wanna, but your a no But boy hips say that you're gonna when you hold me, me, youre so fun B-baby you are too fun
My rock star, The Willy B. crew Im you boy, you liking me too Im chicks left and right just to get to you Youre out there on the grind, now come to your queen, boo.
Brooklyn move my soul like Kissing my stilettos, move your 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 like this my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lips Come on ghetto baby (He said show me you got girl) Come on over ghetto (Drop it its hot girl)
Were a made in heaven, if theyre gonna talk let em If they dont were good together, baby just forget em hes bad, hes bad But when hes good, no ones 'Cause were a match made in heaven and this of loves forever
Brooklyn move my like this Kissing my stilettos, your mouth up to my lips Come on over baby (He show me what you got girl) Come on ghetto baby (Drop it its hot girl)
Brooklyn move my like this Kissing my stilettos, your mouth up to my lips Come on over ghetto (He said show me you got girl) on over ghetto baby (Drop it its hot girl)