‘Baby girl, where you at?’
‘Got no strings, got men attached’
‘Can’t stop their feenin’ for long, no, mm’
Not to toot my own horn, but I have a bit of a voice. The women are losing their minds, trying to figure out who I’m singing to. My only goal is to find who owns that amazing scent.
‘Because you walk pretty, because you talk pretty’
‘Cause you make me sick and I’m not leavin’ till you’re leavin’
‘Oh, I swear there’s something when she’s pumpin’, asking for a raise’
‘Well, does she want me to carry her home now?'
My boys and I are dancing, the moves are coming back to us in waves. I'm throwing in some extra moves, gyrating my hips and whatnot. Right before the chorus hits, I jump off the stage because I know where she is.
‘On my house, on my job, on my loot, shoes, my shirt’
