Flo Rida, T-Pain - Low текст песни

Текст песни Low - Flo Rida



Mm-mm-mm-mm
Let me talk to 'em
Let me talk to 'em
Let it rain, mm-mm-mm
Let me talk to 'em
C'mon
Shawty had them apple bottom jeans (jeans)
Boots with the fur (with the fur)
The whole club was lookin' at her
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Them baggy sweat pants and the Reeboks with the straps (with the straps)
She turned around and gave that big booty a slap (hey)
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Hey, I ain't never seen nothin' that'll make me go
This crazy all night, spending my dough
Had the million dollar vibe and a body to go
Them birthday cakes, they stole the show
So sexual
She was flexible, professional
Drinkin' X and O
Hold up wait a minute, do I see what I think I-, whoa
Did her thing, I seen shawty get low
Ain't the same when it's up that close
Make it rain, I'm makin' it snow
Work the pole, I got the bankroll
I'ma say that I prefer the no clothes
I'm into that, I love women exposed
She threw it back at me, I gave her more
Cash ain't a problem, I know where it go
She had them apple bottom jeans (jeans)
Boots with the fur (with the fur)
The whole club was lookin' at her
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Them baggy sweat pants and the Reeboks with the straps (with the straps)
She turned around and gave that big booty a slap (ayy)
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Hey, shawty, what I gotta do to get you home?
My jeans filled with guap and they ready for shones
Cadillacs, Maybachs for the sexy grown
Patron on the rocks that'll make your moan
One stack c'mon, two stacks c'mon, three stacks c'mon
Now that's three grand
What you think I'm playin'? Baby-girl, I'm the man
I invented rubber bands
That's what I told her, her legs on my shoulders
I knew it was over
That Henny and Cola got me like a soldier
She ready for Rover, I couldn't control her
So lucky, oh, me, I was just like a clover
Shawty was hot like a toaster
Sorry, but I had to fold her
Like a pornography poster, she showed her
Apple bottom jeans (jeans)
Boots with the fur (with the fur)
The whole club was lookin' at her
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Them baggy sweat pants and the Reeboks with the straps (with the straps)
She turned around and gave that big booty a slap (hey)
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Whoa, shawty, yeah she was worth the money
Lil' mama took my cash
And I ain't want it back
The way she bent that back
Got all them paper stacks
Tattoo above her crack
I had to handle that
I was on it, sexy woman
Let me showin', and make me want it
Two in the morning, I'm zoned in
Them Rosay bottles foaming
She wouldn't stop, made it drop
Shawty did that pop and lock
Had to break her off that guap
Gal was fly just like my Glock
Apple bottom jeans (jeans)
Boots with the fur (with the fur)
The whole club was lookin' at her
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
Them baggy sweat pants and the Reeboks with the straps (with the straps)
She turned around and gave that big booty a slap (hey)
She hit the floor (she hit the floor)
Next thing you know
Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low (c'mon)



Авторы: TRAMAR DILLARD, FAHEEM NAJM, HOWARD SIMMONS, KOREY ROBERSON, MONTAY HUMPHREY


Flo Rida, T-Pain - Mail On Sunday
Альбом Mail On Sunday
дата релиза
18-03-2008




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