Gitana (part. Original Elias)

If you come hang out with me for a bit
Let’s escape tonight, I’m serious, I mean it
And if you want, I’ll kiss you on the lips
'Cause I know my vibe drives you wild

And if you come hang out with me for a bit
Let’s escape tonight, I’m serious, I mean it
And if you can’t, we’ll see each other tomorrow
We’ll chill together, girl, let’s head to Havana

She’s got it all and even asks for air
And my heart lies and gets it wrong
For a wild girl that nobody wants
She gets me fired up and I can’t hold my tongue

Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers
Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers, hey

You, you, you, you taste like coconut caipirinha, strawberry, pineapple
What’s up with you, with that Indian face
You light me up and get me going like sativa
You’re addictive like Coca-Cola
You wrap me up, refresh me, and if I overdo it, you drown me
With those little bubbles that are so cool, that’s you
The drink I’d have all the time
That’s my girl, my Coca-Cola
That’s my girl, my Coca-Cola
That little gypsy who’s crazy
And wants me to take her to the field to pick acorns

If you come hang out with me for a bit
Let’s escape tonight, I’m serious, I mean it
And if you want, I’ll kiss you on the lips
'Cause I know my vibe drives you wild

And if you come hang out with me for a bit
Let’s escape tonight, I’m serious, I mean it
And if you can’t, we’ll see each other tomorrow
We’ll chill together, girl, let’s head to Havana

Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers
Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers

Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers
Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers

What does he have that I don’t, why do you want him and not me
What does he have that I don’t, 'cause I’m flamenco, also a fun guy

What does he have that I don’t, why do you want him and not me
What does he have that I don’t, 'cause I’m flamenco, also a fun guy

Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers
Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers

Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers
Hey, hey, to the pretty gypsy, I throw her flowers