Avril Lavigne, Ashley Tisdale, G.E.M. - Trophy Boy lyrics

They call me a damsel in distress
'cause I want my prize
The one with the kingdom and
The big brown eyes
The one with the voice like a moonlight music
Oh my, oh my, does he know to use it?

I’m not playing with ya
He looks into your eyes
Knows just what to say do ya
He’s so beautiful that’s the consensus
Abandon the crown, jewels
I would be he’s princes
I like him for he’s smiles
I like him for he’s hair
I like him for he’s style
I like him cause he’s so debonair
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy

I want him for myself i wanna lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy

He’s so wished so totally run away
I know I wasn’t listening
But he’s totally funny
I don’t even care if he ever makes a sound
Just as long as when he sees me
He’s around and he’s bound to me

I like my glass lever
He fets me so good and a such a good tipper
And you can sing along if you like
But you only know one men
Who looks tough and tight

I like him for he’s smiles
I like him for he’s hair
I like him for he’s style
I like him cause he’s so debonair
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy i want him for myself
I wanna lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy

And it’s not just about he’s looks
He’s also got a sensitive side
He has a soul of a poet
If you give it the time
And he’s a perfect gentleman
Classy and antique oh, who am I kidding he
Just got such excellent abs

You can't compete with those fellas
(such a clown)
I’ll make the whole kingdom jealous (oh, man)
I just forget my manners
Hello, I’m Cinderella and I need a wedding

I like him for he’s smiles
I like him for he’s hair
I like him for he’s style
I like him cause he’s so debonair
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy

I want him for myself i wanna lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy oh, my Gosh!
Oh, my Fairy God Mother!
Would you call this boy’s mama
And tell her that I love her

I like him for he’s smiles
I like him for he’s hair
I like him for he’s stout
I like him cause he’s so debonair
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy

I want him for myself i wanna lock him down
I want that ring on my finger
Like I want that crown
He’s my trophy boy, my trophy boy
My trophy boy