(Chorus – Trey Songz)
Feel like it’s 93
I ain’t tryna get you off
Baby come ride with me
I ain’t tryna get you off
Get you so fly to me
I ain’t tryna get you off
I just feel like you the one, you the one
I can bet you are
Feel like it’s 93
I ain’t tryna get you off
Baby come ride with me
I ain’t tryna get you off
Get you so fly to me
I ain’t tryna get you off
I just feel like you the one, you the one
I can bet you are no, no, no
(Verse 1 – Trey Songz)
Look at your hair, look at your pose
Yeah, look at your nails, look at your toes, girl
Body on…mo, come here
Got a ni**a frooze like a lil’ baby deer, god damn
Baby you’re cool like this time of year
Girl, you hot as motherf**k it feels squeezier
You don’t need a chair sit it down right here
And if you want it all, you can get that there
See you like to read, let me get between the pages
Know you like to work out, I can spot by your squad
Notice these other girls, they ain’t got what you got
(Repeat Chorus)
(Bridge – Dave East)
Money I got plenty, girl it’s nothing, I could spend it all on you
When I spread all on you
Money I got plenty, girl it’s nothing, I could spend it all on you
When I spread all on you
(Verse 2 – Trey Songz)
Ay, look at your body, babe, look in my eyes
Ay, bi**h I’mma fast ay, between your thighs
My lips on yours, drip drip some mo
All of my time, I’m going down
Tryna find your spot, I’m tryna keep it there
I be going deep, so baby be prepared
So s**y I need that, yeah
(Repeat Chorus)
(Verse 3 – Dave East)
93, you gotta f**k wanna ride with me
I look like I hit the lottery, only with ni**as that die for me
I used to be at with all the hammers and all the scammers
And all where the powder be
You hate it, so f**k your apology
You see that red stripe on my Prada tee
I jump out the Rover now
Fully loaded, ain’t hard to see, I’ve been took over now
Same bi**hes wouldn’t even pay attention
I can bend them over, choke em now
Bottom of my teeth golden now
Only back was I can roll a pound
Homies locked up, I can’t hold ’em down
Got Givenchy stars on my shoulder now
New crib, new bi**h, true crib, whip like a bowling ball
Eves Saint Laurent or the Dolce shades, I don’t even know though, sure
Only if she bad I might see it
Full of Henney, so I might eat it
Only socks and my wife beat her
Brain better than a mind reader
(Repeat Chorus)