AY MAMITA
Alan Arrieta
Oh Baby
It's Wicked Outside
White powder that burns, drives me crazy and messes with my head
Cruising through the desert, just spitting sand
Hooded girls wearing vests worth 100k, the ladies
They start to dance when I play La Pantera
Oh baby, shake that little butt
Let that cleavage bounce so the vibe can rise
Oh baby, stop that little pout
I’ll plant some big kisses while you feel the Glock
The truck's loaded with pure white, and I ain't talking about laundry
They got their Dior gloss in a little Prada bag
They don’t record because they know this area is private
They hop in solo, just like I told you last time
How I love to see how they want my vitamin
Not even a minute's enough to take them to the top
They wait for me after coming down from the stage
Yesterday it was an Italian, now it’s an Argentine
Let’s go, hop in, get on, gear up
Let the radios blast, the kids are on alert
Get active, step on it, go wild, touch yourself
Before they call me to start shooting
A thousand things I want to do to you, put you on the table
Face down or face up, all I want is to eat you
You like the greens, no need to lie to me
Your eyes shine when you see my teeth
Full of diamonds, you like the singers
With the look of thugs, cap pulled down
Important meetings, all classy people
That’s how it is everywhere, I roll with the big shots
Macallan whisky, I got a cigar in my mouth
On top of the McLaren, and behind me a bunch of bodyguards
I live life hard because when it hits, it hits
With a little pink powder, the girls go wild
Damn, how I spend cash like crazy
And cars, the garage is full
Damn, how the ladies are all over
I just don’t fall in love because that’s not for me
This kid’s got a random
The girls hop in, they’re all wild
A blockbuster, let’s head to the party
Word spreads that the Cheyenne has arrived
Wherever we go, we blow it up
We pop the bands, we level up
From here, we’re not leaving, counting bills
And let the little feather keep making money
White powder that burns, drives me crazy and messes with my head
Cruising through the desert, just spitting sand
Hooded girls wearing vests worth 100k, the ladies
They start to dance when I play La Pantera
Oh baby, shake that little butt
Let that cleavage bounce so the vibe can rise
Oh baby, stop that little pout
I’ll plant some big kisses while you feel the Glock
The truck's loaded with pure white, and I ain't talking about laundry
They got their Dior gloss in a little Prada bag
They don’t record because they know this area is private
They hop in solo, just like I told you last time
And that’s how Alan Arrieta sounds, man
