| Girl, what’s your sign? |
| I pull up right on time
|
| «She don’t fuck with broke niggas», you sit on the sideline
|
| Back your ass up, whip that booty, and rewind
|
| I just want to see what’s in 'em jeans like Ginuwine
|
| What’s in 'em jeans? |
| What’s in 'em jeans?
|
| Bay, you make that booty bend like trampoline
|
| What’s in 'em jeans? |
| What’s in 'em jeans?
|
| All my pretty girls scream, «Pretty Gang»
|
| Broke boys always talking 'bout
|
| How many hoes they fuck, how many bitches they got
|
| But we really wanna know how many coins you got
|
| If you talking 'bout your rap, how many songs you got?
|
| This for my bitches, all my bad bitches
|
| Only if you independent and after your riches
|
| She a old lady got a young nigga in the corner
|
| Young nigga hit it right and smoked that good marijuana
|
| She’ll have you in the club mad, everybody want her
|
| I think I like her persona, Victoria’s Secret aroma
|
| Late night at the Aroma, I took her home and I bone her
|
| She screwed up in the Corolla, got her drunk of Coronas
|
| Jewelry colder than Polar, I’m high like the Solar
|
| She took it more than Oprah, make it clap like Magnolia
|
| It’s the first time you seen her, and she act like she know ya
|
| That’s her motive, she burst that wallet open, so I had to ask her
|
| Girl, what’s your sign? |
| I pull up right on time
|
| «She don’t fuck with broke niggas», you sit on the sideline
|
| Back your ass up, whip that booty, and rewind
|
| I just want to see what’s in 'em jeans like Ginuwine
|
| What’s in 'em jeans? |
| What’s in 'em jeans?
|
| Bay, you make that booty bend like trampoline
|
| What’s in 'em jeans? |
| What’s in 'em jeans?
|
| All my pretty girls scream, «Pretty Gang»
|
| I asked her what’s her sign, she told me, «Gemini»
|
| I told her, «Girl, you lying, that’s the same sign as mine»
|
| But anyway, never mind, back to the subject, «You fine»
|
| I’m tryna see if in them jeans Ginuwine
|
| And she don’t like broke boys, broke boys ain’t making no noise
|
| Walk around with a check like Floyd, she licking at me looking gorgeous
|
| Pinky ring the size of orbit, broke boys can’t afford it
|
| Look in my pockets on Orbit, I’m a free man no Morgan
|
| Man, you can go to my mansion, it got six stories
|
| Hop in the Lam' and drop the top like the Headless Horseman
|
| Telling me stories of her and a broke boy divorce
|
| Honestly, I can care less, baby, that ain’t important
|
| I like how them jeans look tight, they show your panties
|
| Walking 'round the club got these broke boys panic
|
| When she walk in public, people turn to a mannequin
|
| She done killed the whole club, call the ambulance
|
| Girl, what’s your sign? |
| I pull up right on time
|
| «She don’t fuck with broke niggas», you sit on the sideline
|
| Back your ass up, whip that booty, and rewind
|
| I just want to see what’s in 'em jeans like Ginuwine
|
| What’s in 'em jeans? |
| What’s in 'em jeans?
|
| Bay, you make that booty bend like trampoline
|
| What’s in 'em jeans? |
| What’s in 'em jeans?
|
| All my pretty girls scream, «Pretty Gang» |