(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)