Estelle - American Boy (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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Estelle - American Boy (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
Just another one champion sound
Yeah, Estelle, we 'bout
to get down, 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 LA.
I really want to come
kick it with you.
You'll be my American boy.
He said "Hey, Sister.
It's really, really nice to meet you."
I just met this 5 foot 7
guy who's just my type.
I like the way he's speaking,
his confidence is peaking.
Don't like his baggy jeans but I'mma
like what's underneath them.
And no I ain't been to MIA
I heard that Cali never rains
and New York's heart awaits.
First let's see the west end.
I'll show you to my brethren.
I'm liking this American
boy, American boy
Take me on a trip, I'd
like to go some day
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.
Dress in all your fancy clothes.
Sneakers looking fresh to death,
I'm loving those Shell Toes.
Walking that walk.
Talk that slick talk.
I'm liking this American
boy, American boy.
You'll be my American boy
Tell 'em wagwan blud
Who killing 'em in the UK.
Everybody gonna say, "You, K."
Reluctantly 'cause most of this
press don't fuck 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 thinking.
Ribena I know what you're drinking.
Rap singer. Chain blinger.
Holla at the next chick soon
as you're blinking.
What's your 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 peacoat,
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 CASH.
'Cause a lot wags wanna hear it.
And I'm feeling like Mike
at his Baddest.
Like 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 mine?
Could you be my love, my love?
Would you be my American
boy, American boy?
Take me to Chicago, San Francisco Bay.
La la lala la lalala
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