Correction Lyrics Touch'N You by Rick Ross

Featuring(s) : Usher

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Lyrics

Fucking you, fucking you
Rozay, what’s the problem with these rap niggas?
They don’t know how to play it cool, you know?
I mean there's a time and place for everything
Been thinking 'bout you all day
Right now, it's about that time
Fucking you, fucking you, fucking you
Look how you turn me on baby
You like when you talk to him, I mean you're saying something
Singing is believing, Usher, baby
Turn the lights on

She kissin' on me, bitin' on my bottom lip
In the Galleria all I get is buy me this
Conversations on the phone until the break of dawn
Combination to her home, I gotta make her moan
Mean hustle got me chasin' all this fast money
Balenciaga sneakers, now she touchin' cash money
So sexy in them all black Giuseppe heels
50 stacks in her bag so she know it’s real
Top off the Ferrari now we thugged out
Smokin' on that Cali, bumpin' 2Pac
It’s me against the world now, what’s your phone number?
Jumpin' in that Range Rover and I’m comin' over

Fucking you, fucking you
Been thinking 'bout you all day
Fucking you, fucking you
Still can’t get my mind off your body
I’m day dreaming 'bout, look how you turn me on baby
Fucking you, fucking you
Cause nobody compares to your body
Every time you let me touch
Fucking you, fucking you
And every time you let me
Nobody compare to your body, yeah
Fucking you, fucking you

I think I wanna put a ring on it
I think I wanna tat her name on me
I had a lot of sexy women
But this is not the same for me
Bounce, love it how she always make it bounce
Rose petals on her bed, I walk in unannounced
I love it when she speak a different language (papito!)
I touch her in so many different angles
Born stunna, and my baby so stunnin'
Niggas want her, but she find them so funny
I’m gettin' money, livin' like the most wanted
She all I ever needed, now Usher sing it

Pink champagne for my dime piece
In the sheets you know I flip her like a 9 piece
In the streets you know I’m eatin' like a lion feast
Lick a nipple tryna tickle all the finer things
Keys to the crib, keep it trill, time to handle biz
Big dreamer, new Beamer, just the realest nigga
Cover of the source, owner of the Porsche
Killin' all haters, showin' no remorse
Knockin' at the door, she recognize the voice
I’m not them other boys, she know I shine the most
She modelin' a lot, I know she on the go
Another bottle of Ciroc, baby let’s have a toast

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