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Lyrics: Just another one champion sound Yeah, Estelle, we 'bout to get down (Get down) Who the hottest in the world right now Just touched down in London town Bet they give me a pound Tell them put the money in my hand right now Tell the promoter we need more seats We just sold out all the floor seats Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA I really want to come kick it with you You'll be my American boy He said "Hey, Sister, it's really, really nice to meet you" I just met this 5 foot 7 guy who's just my type I like the way he's speaking, his confidence is peaking Don't like his baggy jeans but I'mma like what's underneath them And no I ain't been to MIA I heard that Cali never rains and New York's heart awaits First let's see the west end, I'll show you to my brethren I'm liking this American boy, American boy Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA I really want to come kick it with you You'll be my American boy, American boy Would you be my American boy, American boy Can we get away this weekend? Take me to Broadway Let's go shopping, baby, then we'll go to a café Let's go on the subway, take me to your hood I never been to Brooklyn and I'd like to see what's good Dress in all your fancy clothes Sneakers looking fresh to death, I'm loving those Shell Toes Walking that walk, talk that slick talk I'm liking this American boy, American boy Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA I really want to come kick it with you You'll be my American boy Tell 'em wagwan blud Who killing 'em in the UK Everybody gonna say, "You, K" Reluctantly 'cause most of this press don't mess with me Estelle once said to me, "Cool down, down, don't act a fool now, now" I always act a fool oww, oww, ain't nothing new now, now He crazy, I know what ya thinking Ribena I know what you're drinking Rap singer, Chain blinger Holla at the next chick soon as you're blinking What's your persona About this Americana Brama Am I shallow 'cause all my clothes designer Dressed smart like a London Bloke Before he speak his suit bespoke And you thought he was cute before Look at this peacoat, tell me he's broke And I know you ain't into all that I heard your lyrics, I feel your spirit But I still talk that C-A-A-S-H 'Cause a lot wags wanna hear it And I'm feeling like Mike at his Baddest Like The Pips at they Gladys And I know they love it So to H-word with all that rubbish Would you be my love, my love? (Would you be mine?) Would you be my love, my love? (Would you be mine?) Could you be my love, my love? Oh, would you be my American boy, American boy? Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day Take me to Chicago, San Francisco Bay I really want to come kick it with you You'll be my American boy, American boy Take me on a trip, I'd like to go some day Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA I really want to come kick it with you You'll be my American boy, American boy
