Song lyrics
Touch'n you, touch'n you.
Ross, eh! What's the problem with these rappers?
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
Touch'n you, touch'n you, touch'n you.
Look, how you turn me on, baby!
(You like when you talk to him, I mean for saying something.)
Singing is beleving, Usher, baby!
Turn the lights on!
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
She kissing on me, biting on my bottom lip.
In the gallery 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 chasing all this fast money,
Viliaci all the sneakers, now she touching cash money,
So sexy in them all black and 'sepy heels,
50 stacks in her bag so she know it's real.
Top of the Ferrari now we thugged out,
Smoking on that Callie bumping 2Pac,
It's me against the world, now what's your phone number?
Jumping in that Range Rover and I'm coming over!
[Hook: Usher]
Touch'n you, touch'n you.
Been thinking bout you all day.
Touch'n you, touch'n you.
Still can't get my mind off your body,
I'm day dreaming 'bout, look, how you turn me on, baby!
Touch'n you, touch'n you.
'Cause nobody confess to your body,
Every time you let me touch...
Touch'n you, touch'n you.
And every time you let me...
Nobody compare to your body, yeah!
Touch'n you, touch'n you.
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
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 stunning,
Wanna, but she find them so funny.
I'm getting money, living like the most wanted,
She all I ever needed, now I think, it's her body.
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
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 eating like a lion feast.
Lick a nipple, tryna tickle all the finer things.
Keys to the crib, keep it trill, time to handle bizz.
Big dreamer, new Beamer, just the realest.
Cover of The Source, owner of the Porsche,
Killing all haters, showing no remorse.
Knocking at the door, she recognize the voice,
I'm not them other boys, she know I shine the most.
She modeling a lot, I know, she on the go,
Another bottle of Cîroc, baby, let's have a toast!
[Hook]
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