Yeah... yee...
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Why don't talk 'bout my baby,
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Talkin' 'bout my baby,
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When we go walkin' down Bourbon street.
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I just can't hardly stand to walk behind her.
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She got her red hot pants on,
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She got on her yellow high heel sneakers.
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She got on her yellow low neck see through blouse without no brazier on.
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She's shaking like two big ol' balloons in a huricane.
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Oooh
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She got on her purple afro wig
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She got her hand on her hip, let her backbone slip,
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Battin' her eyes
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Battin' her eyes
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Battin' her eyes
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Battin' her eyes
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Battin' her eyes and lookin' straight at me. . . yeah, lookin' straight at me.
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She's battin' her eyes and lookin' straight at me with that sassy, saucy look on her face.
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She said I wanna go out on a picknick with you baby,
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Under the big bright yellow sun
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[repeat]
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-----------------
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Talkin' Bout My Baby
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| Fatboy Slim |
