Estelle - American Boy lyrics

rate me

Just another one champion sound

Me and you about to get down

Who the hottest in the world right now

Just touched down in London town

Bet they give me a pound

Tell them put the money in my hand right now

Tell the promoter we need more seats

We just sold out all the floor seats

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A.

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

He said, "Hey, sister, it's really, really nice to meet ya"

I just met this 4 foot 7 boy who's just my type

I like the way he's speaking, his confidence is peaking

Don't like his baggy jeans but I like the way he's thinking

And no, I ain't been to MIA

I heard that Cali never rains and New York heart awaits

First let's see the West End, I'll show you all my best friends

I'm likin' this American boy, American boy

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go someday

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A.

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

Can we get away this weekend? Take me to Broadway

Let's go shopping baby then we'll go to a Café

Let's go on the subway, take me to your hood

I never been to Brooklyn and I'd like to see what's good

Dressed in all your fancy clothes

Sneakers looking fresh to death, I'm lovin' those shell toes

Walkin' that walk, talk that slick talk

I'm likin' this American boy, American boy

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A.

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

Let them know agwan blud

Who killin 'em in the UK. Everybody gonna say you K, reluctantly, 'cause most of this press don't f**k with me. Estelle once said to me, cool down down don't act a fool now now. I always act a fool oww oww. Ain't nothing new now now. He crazy, I know what ya thinkin. Ribena, I know what you're drinkin. Rap singer. Chain Blinger. Holla at the next chick soon as you're blinkin. What's you're persona. about this *Americana* Brama. Am I shallow cause all my clothes designer. Dressed smart like a London Bloke. Before he speak his suit bespoke. And you thought he was cute before. Look at this P Coat, Tell me he's broke. And I know you *ain't* into all that. I heard your lyrics I feel your spirit. But I still talk that CAAASH. Cause a lot *of* wags want to hear it. And I'm feelin' like Mike at his Baddest. The Pips at they Gladys. And I know they love it. so to hell with all that rubbish

Would you be my love, my love?

Would you be my love, my love?

Could you be my love, my love?

Would you be my American boy, American boy?

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A.

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

American boy, American boy, American

Thanks to Kaylena Stevenson for these lyrics