I've been drinking, I've been drinking I get filthy when that liquor get into me I've been thinking, I've been thinking Why can't I keep my fingers off it? Baby, I want you, na-na Why can't I keep my fingers off it? Baby, I want you, na-na Cigars on ice, cigars on ice Feeling like an animal with these cameras all in my grill Flashing lights, flashing lights You got me faded, faded, faded Baby, I want you, na-na Can't keep your eyes off my fatty Daddy, I want you, na-na Drunk in love, I want you We woke up in the kitchen Saying, "How the hell did this shit happen?" Oh, baby Drunk in love We be all night Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club Drunk in love We be all night, love, love We be all night, love, love We be all night, and everything alright No complaints from my body So fluorescent under these lights Boy, I'm drinking, park it in my lot, 7-11 I'm rubbing on it, rub-rubbing If you scared, call that reverend Boy, I'm drinking, get my brain right Armand de Brignac, gangster wife Louis sheets, he sweat it out, like washrags, he wet it up Boy, I'm drinking I'm singing on the mic to my boy's toys Then I fill the tub up halfway Then ride it with my surfboard, surfboard, surfboard Graining on that wood, graining-graining on that wood I'm swerving on that, swerving-swerving on that Big body been serving all this Swerve, surfing all in this good, good We woke up in the kitchen Saying, "How the hell did this shit happen? Oh, baby Drunk in love We be all night Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club Drunk in love We be all night, love, love We be all night, love, love (I'm nice right now, hold up!) That D'USSÉ is the shit if I do say so myself If I do say so myself, if I do say so myself Hold up, stumble all in the house Time to back up all that mouth That you had all in the car Talking 'bout you the baddest bitch thus far Talking 'bout you be repping that third I wanna see all that shit that I heard Know I sling Clint Eastwood Hope you can handle this curve, uh Foreplay in a foyer, fucked up my Warhol Slid the panties right to the side Ain't got the time to take drawers off On sight, catch a charge I might Beat the box up, like Mike in '97, I bite I'm Ike Turner, turn up baby, no, I don't play "Now eat the cake, Anna Mae Said, "Eat the cake, Anna Mae I'm nice for y'all to reach these heights You gon' need G3, 4, 5, 6 flights, sleep tight We sex again in the mornin' Your breasteses is my breakfast, we goin' in We be all night, love, love We be all night, love, love I'm never tired, never tired I been sipping, that's the only thing That's keeping me on fire, we on fire Didn't mean to spill that liquor all on my attire I've been drinking, watermelon I want your body right here, daddy I want you, right now Can't keep your eyes off my fatty Daddy, I want you We be all night, love, love We be all night, love, love
Damn, bass so boosted, there's a height limit. The track... the track not only slaps, but most certainly claps. And so will you, if you turn this up right as she gets out of the shower. First-hand experience says with this, you can ascend right out of that awkward 'we're •just friends•, but she's been giving me _that_ look all weekend' holding pattern...
Imagine a woman who's is wearing a tight dress in a convertible Corvette blasting this songs while waiting for the traffic light to turn green, the night clear and the moon is full and visible, her hair flowing slightly as the wind whispers against her hair lifting it slightly.
