Harlem has those southern skies, They're in my baby's smile, I idolize my baby's eyes and Classy up-town style. If Harlem moved to China, I know of nothing finer, Than to stow away on a plane, some day and have them Drop me off in Harlem. Drop me off in

Thong, th-thong, thong, thong When you’ve got an ass like mine Sweet design Baby got back on my cockback Where's the men at? Someone’s gonna move a lot of heads What’s mine, sweet design Word travels fast “Thong Song,” I'ma bring it, part 2

It's so right I wanna see the way you move for me baby Little black dress It's so right you know I wanna see the way you move for me It's too late It's not right Just walked into the room Makin' heads turn

Baby, this ain't me I got up this morning And I put on my shoes I tied my shoes Then I washed my face I went to the mirror For to comb my head I made a move Didn't know what to do

You can’t hide from me There ain’t no tricks that you can try on me I know your every move before you even breathe baby Thinking you know something I don’t know but my eyes, my eyes, my eyes Like a telescope You left your troubles in my head, in my head

Baby, move like you wanna, Baby, move like you need, Like there's no-one else around here. Honey, move like you ought to, Baby, move just to please me. Oh lady get down, I saw you earlier on, They were playing blues downtown Some kind of Mississippi,

I'll move on baby just like you When the desert floods and the grass turns blue When a sailing ship don't need her moon It will break my heart but I'll get through Someday when I stop loving you One foot on the bus 'bout half past nine I knew that you

We ain't ever gettin' older I know it breaks your heart Moved to the city in a broke-down car and And I, I, I can't stop (can't stop) No, I, I, I can't stop (can't stop) So, baby, pull me closer In the backseat of your Rover That I know you can't afford

Harlem has those southern skies, They're in my baby's smile, I idolize my baby's eyes and Classy up-town style. If Harlem moved to China, I know of nothing finer, Than to stow away on a plane, some day and have them Drop me off in Harlem. Drop me off in

(I want it) Ooh, baby I ain't ever done cocaine Ooh, I swear there's something runnin' through my veins 'Cause the way that you move and the things that you do In my bed got my head all feeling messed up The taste of your lips and the sway of your hips