Rick Ross, Usher - Touch’N You lyrics

William Roberts II

Usher Raymond

[Rick Ross, Usher - Touch’N You lyrics]

Fucking you, fucking you
Rozay, that’s the problem with
These rap niggas
They don’t know how to play it cool
You know? I mean there's a time
And place for everything
Been thinking 'bout you all day
Right now, it's about that time
Fucking you, fucking you, fucking you
Look how you turn me on baby
You like when you talk to him
I mean you're saying something
Singing is believing, Usher, baby
Turn the lights on

She kissin' on me, bitin' on my bottom lip
In the Galleria all I get is buy me this
Conversations on the phone until
The break of dawn combination to her home
I gotta make her moan
Mean hustle got me chasin'
All this fast money balenciaga sneakers
Now she touchin' cash money
So sexy in them all black Giuseppe heels
50 stacks in her bag so she know it’s real
Top off the Ferrari now we thugged out
Smokin' on that Cali, bumpin' 2Pac
It’s me against the world now
What’s your phone number?
Jumpin' in that Range Rover
And I’m comin' over

Fucking you, fucking you
Been thinking 'bout you all day
Fucking you, fucking you
Still can’t get my mind off your body
I’m day dreaming 'bout
Look how you turn me on baby
Fucking you, fucking you
Cause nobody compares to your body
Every time you let me touch
Fucking you, fucking you
And every time you let me
Nobody compare to your body, yeah
Fucking you, fucking you

I think I wanna put a ring on it
I think I wanna tat her name on me
I had a lot of sexy women
But this is not the same for me
Bounce, love it how she always make it bounce
Rose petals on her bed, I walk in unannounced
I love it when she speak a different language
(papito)
I touch her in so many different angles
Born stunna, and my baby so stunnin'
Niggas want her, but she find them so funny
I’m gettin' money
Livin' like the most wanted
She all I ever needed, now Usher sing it

Fucking you, fucking you
Been thinking 'bout you all day
Fucking you, fucking you
Still can’t get my mind off your body
I’m day dreaming 'bout
Look how you turn me on baby
Fucking you, fucking you
Cause nobody compares to your body
Every time you let me touch
Fucking you, fucking you
And every time you let me
Nobody compare to your body, yeah
Fucking you, fucking you

Pink champagne for my dime piece
In the sheets you know I flip
Her like a 9 piece
In the streets you know I’m
Eatin' like a lion feast
Lick a nipple tryna tickle
All the finer things
Keys to the crib, keep it trill
Time to handle biz big dreamer, new Beamer
Just the realest nigga
Cover of the source, owner of the Porsche
Killin' all haters, showin' no remorse
Knockin' at the door, she recognize the voice
I’m not them other boys
She know I shine the most
She modelin' a lot, I know she on the go
Another bottle of Ciroc
Baby let’s have a toast

Fucking you, fucking you
Been thinking 'bout you all day
Fucking you, fucking you
Still can’t get my mind off your body
I’m day dreaming 'bout
Look how you turn me on baby
Fucking you, fucking you
Cause nobody compares to your body
Every time you let me touch
Fucking you, fucking you
And every time you let me
Nobody compare to your body, yeah
Fucking you, fucking you

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