Текст:
Know you say you down wit it,
Wont tell ‘em how you hit the ground wit it,
Girl, you know Im from Chicago,
I act a fool, Bobby Brown witit,
In it, nobody take me out, though.
You got gifts, bring ‘em down the south pole,
Marathon, doll, gon puttin miles,
Dont you worry ‘bout it, might gon work it out.
Only is you got me feelin like this,
Ooh why, why, why, why?
Lovin while grabbin the rhythm of your hips,
Thats right, right, right, right, right.
Rhythm is a dancer, I need a companion,
Girl, I guess that must be you.
Body like the summer, f*ckin like no other,
Dont you tell ‘em what we do.
Dont tell ‘em, dont tell ‘em,
You aint even,
Dont tell ‘em, dont tell ‘em,
You aint even, you aint even gotta tell ‘em.