Ghetto Baby

You got a face like the Madonna crying tears of goldBeen pumping gas at the Texaco, road to roadYoure on the runOh baby, yeah youre on the runOh babyIm not a trick, boy, Im a trick for youYou give me butterflies, heart skipping one twoI know youre sick boy,I wanna get the fluIm running temperatures thinking of your love, booBrooklyn move my soul like thisKissing my stilettos move your mouth up to my lipsCome on over ghetto baby(He said show me what you got girl)Come on over ghetto baby(Drop it like its hot girl)I know your lips say that you wanna, but your hearts a noBut boy your hips say that you're gonna when you hold me,Hold me, youre so funB-baby you are too much funB-babyMy local rock star, The Willy B. crewIm feeling you boy, you liking me tooIm clocking chicks left and right just to get to youYoure out there on the grind, now come home to your queen, boo.Brooklyn move my soul like thisKissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lipsCome on over ghetto baby(He said show me what you got girl)Come on over ghetto baby(Drop it like its hot girl)Brooklyn move my soul like thisKissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lipsCome on over ghetto baby(He said show me what you got girl)Come on over ghetto baby(Drop it like its hot girl)Were a match made in heaven, if theyre gonna talk let emIf they dont think were good together, baby just forget emWhen hes bad, hes badBut when hes good, no ones better'Cause were a match made in heaven and this kind of loves foreverBrooklyn move my soul like thisKissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lipsCome on over ghetto baby(He said show me what you got girl)Come on over ghetto baby(Drop it like its hot girl)Brooklyn move my soul like thisKissing my stilettos, move your mouth up to my lipsCome on over ghetto baby(He said show me what you got girl)Come on over ghetto baby(Drop it like its hot girl)