You got a face like the Madonna Crying tears of gold Been pumping gas at the Texaco Road to road
You're on the run, oh baby yeah You're on the run, oh baby
I'm not a trick but I'm a trick for you You give me butterflies, heart's skipping one, two I know you're sick boy, I wanna get the flu I'm running temperatures thinking of your love boo
Brooklyn, move my soul like this Kissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lips Come on over, ghetto baby He said, show me what you got, girl Come on over, ghetto baby Drop it like it's hot, girl
I know your lips say that you wanna But your heart's a no But boy, your hips say that you're gonna When you hold me, hold me
You're so fun, baby You are too much fun, baby
My local rock star, the Willy B. crew I'm feeling you boy, you liking me too I'm clocking chicks left and right just to get to you You're out there on the grind, now come home to your queen boo
Brooklyn, move my soul like this Kissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lips Come on over, ghetto baby He said, show me what you got, girl Come on over, ghetto baby Drop it like it's hot, girl
We're a match made in heaven If they're gonna talk, let them If they don't think we're good together Baby, just forget them
When he's bad, he's bad But when he's good, no one's better ‘Cause we're a match made in heaven And this kind of love's forever
Brooklyn, move my soul like this Kissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lips Come on over, ghetto baby He said, show me what you got, girl Come on over, ghetto baby Drop it like it's hot, girlTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
