Low

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, 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



Credits
Writer(s): Korey Roberson, Faheem Najm, Montay Desmond Humphrey, H. Simmons, Tramar Dillard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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