Wished I had told, was the only one (uh-oh) But it's too late, it's too late You sweat her, and I ain't talkin' 'bout a Coogi You a big L, and I ain't talkin 'bout Cool J See me at the airport, at least twenty Louis Treat me like the Prince and this my

Shoot 'em down, Shoot 'em down, Shoot 'em down, She looks so fine Like champagne or wine No one ever gets her Oh ain't she cool Plays us for fools If we want to let her Across the room she sees some buffoon Blown away by her style