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Lana Del Rey
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Ghetto Baby
You got a face like the Madonna crying tears of gold
Been pumping gas at the Texaco, road to road
Youre on the run
Oh baby, yeah youre on the run
Oh baby
Im not a trick, boy, Im a trick for you
You give me butterflies, heart skipping one two
I know youre sick boy,
I wanna get the flu
Im 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 its hot girl)
I know your lips say that you wanna, but your hearts a no
But boy your hips say that you're gonna when you hold me,
Hold me, youre so fun
B-baby you are too much fun
B-baby
My local rock star, The Willy B. crew
Im feeling you boy, you liking me too
Im clocking chicks left and right just to get to you
Youre 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
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(He said show me what you got girl)
Come on over ghetto baby
(Drop it like its hot girl)
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 its hot girl)
Were a match made in heaven, if theyre gonna talk let em
If they dont think were good together, baby just forget em
When hes bad, hes bad
But when hes good, no ones better
'Cause were a match made in heaven and this kind of loves 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 its hot girl)
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 its hot girl)
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