[Intro: Solomon Childs]
My fault, man.... classic
Uh.... You know?.... I see you ma...
Let me talk to you for a minute, you heard?
Come here

[Solomon Childs]
They can't do it like we do, she got 22's on her Acura
Truck, impressed by the way that she talk
So in love with the way that she walk
Yeah, but you so faithful to Scram Jones, ass big as Miss Jones
Back to the drawing board, her pussy so good
I threw twenties on her mother's Accord
They can't do nothing for you girls
Them some little hustlers, and all you gonna do is get bored
Solomon, and I ain't the average
So we can celebrate Thanksgiving in Paris
Shit, money over flowing
Brown skin be blissfull, and temperature's rising
And ya man's a buster, how bout we get you something for ya finger
Them jeans that you got on, got a lotta things rising
Girl you keep the whole scene rising

[Chorus: Natalia]
So don't front, before you say you love me, boy
If she don't stop, it's only you, I'm loving, boy
And believe that I'm in love, with you
Is it crazy, what am I to do?