Letras
Say I wanna rock witcha baby
And I wanna roll witcha lady
Say I wanna rock witcha baby
And I wanna roll witcha lady
She got me fighting temptation athlete in her prime
So I'ma"Deion" in that pussy hopping cross her goal line
Head like a goldmine
Be digging in her spine
I be digging in her mind
I'm trying to see what I can find
And if I like it I'ma beat it play my Michael Jackson hand
She climbing up the wall she such a Michael Jackson fan
The one-man-band see how long the show last
Don't brag about the"D" I let her be the telecast
Word spread hella fast I got hella fans
Young Peter Pan
I give ass a lift and she might never land
A cool ass chick Misses Ceiling Fan
Blow me down
Popeye might need another spinach can
And he can't love her like I can rub her like I can
And yeah I keep her on the road I'm like the Michelin Man
And now I got a change of plans with this wedding band
Book the wedding band
And tell my best friend he gon' be the best man
Got a bigger place with a basement
You say your ole man broke and he don' got complacent
I can come and John Wick it if you want me to kill it
Or Lionel Messy if you just wanna kick it
'Cause I be chilling
You've been staring at me all night long baby
Wondering if I can hit your phone
I wanna see if you were home alone baby
Make sure I come but I can't stay too long
Trying to be cool steady rising trying to hold back
Dressed to impress looking and feeling like a cold mack
Heart beating fast like I puffed a whole sack
Like this young dick so she ain't fucking with no old cat
The way she smile makes my heart flutter
Skin so smooth I can't believe it's not butter
All that's on my mind making you melt like hot butter
Speaking of which you cornbread-fed just like a muffin
Turn some corners in my ride let me enter your mind
Looks good but it ain't all about hitting it from behind