Flores Pa Ti (part. Becky G y Papatinho)

Uh-uh
The number one, Papatinho

Hey, you may play with others
But don't mess with me, no
In case you didn't notice, daddy, I'm like Al Pacino
Talk and it sounds ra-ta-ta
Ain't sayin' shit, what you talkin' 'bout?
He lies to me, then cries to me, blah, blah, ha, ha
You like roses, you like daisies, lilies
Maybe tulips 'cause you actin' silly (So silly, prr)

If you're gonna send me more flowers, they're for you (They're for you)
They're for you because you're dead to me (To me)
You thought I'd be crying over you (No, daddy)
Flowers for you because you're dead to me (Mmm, yeah, yeah)

That slut in your bed
Mamacita, your range, sitting there all sly (Uh)
You're a hot Brazilian
They say it's tough, naughty, wicked, ah
They ask me: Who are you?
Every bar I go to, they wanna fuck me
All your friends dream of having me
They jerk off just by seeing me (And what?)
There's no point in coming after me (Forget it)
Only those who walk with me (Deserve it)
Were lucky to have me in their life
Didn't you realize I'm above?
Bossy bitch, goddamn
My name is Luísa (She's so Brazilian)
Bossy bitch, goddamn
The one in charge is the girl

If you're gonna send me more flowers, they're for you (They're for you)
They're for you because you're dead to me (To me)
You thought I'd be crying over you (No, daddy, mhm)
Flowers for you because you're dead to me (Mmm, yeah, yeah)

Mmm
Hahaha
Haha
Oh-oh
The number one, Papatinho