Intro/Chorus: {sung}
|
|
Dance with me, come on dance - with me baby
|
Dance with me, come on dance - with me baby
|
Dance with me, come on dance - with me baby
|
Dance with me, come on dance - with me baby
|
|
(repeat 2X)
|
|
[Dove]
|
How you gon' tell me to mind my own biz
|
when you lookin like somethin I need to know about?
|
I used to go about it the wrong way, tuggin your arm when you'd pass
|
But I see you got class besides all that
|
Yeah I'm picky in my own way too
|
While the rest of these fools is lookin to screw your brains out
|
I bling'd(?) out don't(?) wanna stand froze
|
Practicin my hello's, hey lady, how you doin
|
Renewin these vows is like fifty steps beyond from here
|
Shit I don't even know your name yet (word)
|
Ain't sure what your character contains yet
|
But damn lady, you could be my Valentine
|
Cupid got his infrared on my chest clocked
|
Let the rest flock, they just birds anyway
|
I grow my confidence in words the Henny way - yeah, buy me a drink
|
so we can sink into that thought path..
|
|
Chorus
|
|
[Pos]
|
Now you know you ain't right, eyein me up all night
|
despite the fact some kid is runnin chitta-chat in your ear
|
How the hell we get here, with me over here, and you over there
|
when we can make, such an obvious pair?
|
Why miss? Have you misread my shyness for conceit?
|
I'm peepin how you move it to the pace of the beat
|
Got my eyes on wide as they constantly collide with yours
|
Your heavenly body rushin the tide to shore
|
Your heavenly body rushin these guys to the floor
|
to find pleasure in your double digit design,
|
but these clowns look hurt
|
And as a woman's ex-nigga I'm a woman ex-pert
|
Understandin how the ovaries and all that shit work
|
Extremely dreamy, my eyes you look surprised
|
that I'm movin closer - don't be, I'm supposed to D.C.
|
Are you for real or a tease?
|
|
[Dove]
|
Now let that drink set in sweet, we up close and personal
|
Ain't nuttin dull about this, sharp like Swiss precision
|
(Caught you watch-in) my every move from the door
|
Teran escortin us to V.I.P., we live in D.C.
|
Shoestring dress I wanna fuck and make your hair look a mess
|
Suckin the straw huh? You know the head game
|
First place chick girl I'm all about winnin too
|
I want my trophy life-sized in a see through
|
|
[Pos]
|
This ain't your average, whippin your batterage
|
drivin song that probably isn't your type
|
So I type it long with that ink that won't budge
|
or smudge off your memory; courtesy of SkyTel
|
My mail, pop up like some bubbles found on VH-1
|
Also need the math to your color pH-1
|
Not the old man in the club who needs his dub to get rubbed
|
but sound the buzzer, I'm comin to sub
|
|
Chorus 1.25X
|
|
-----------------
|
With Me
|
De La Soul |