The man is a composer,
makes music with his touch
I've got a need for his melody,
His song gives me a rush
When he walks into the room,
I can feel the heat
'Cause he's about to put it down,
And I've got front row seats.
His hands to my neck,
Soft as the picolo
His lips they follow close behind,
Like 'welcome to the show'
He whisper harmonies to me,
His fingers in my hair.
"Tell me what it is you want"
Damn, do I hear music in the air?
He's got a perfect pitch
And his tone is so refined
Forgive me if I am a fan,
the man is musically inclined.
He holds me like I'm his guitar,
And knows how to strum my strings
Or like the grand piano
The way he tickles my ivories
My body moves to his music
like the waves within the seas.
No slowin' down, once he's warmed up
To lead his symphony.
His kisses smooth as alto sax,
The way they leave his lips.
They settle like the beat of the snare,
on my back, my neck, my hips.
His rythem is intoxicationg,
Damn if I can sit still.
Something about it is hypnotic,
Bends me to his will.
His lyric is amazing,
His ballad's so devine
A workman worthy of his hire,
The man is musically inclined
His sweet refrain wraps itself
Around my silhoette
And its somethin' like the rain,
because its bound to get you wet
If Darious is The blues in Nina's left thigh,
And the funk thats in her right,
Than he's the gospel in my mornng song
And the jazz that fills my night
I bet you think I'm trippin'.
Like he's got me out my mind
But I'm sorry yawl I can't help it,
The man is musically inclined
So dont mind if I pay extra
And get a backstage pass
But baby-boy plays that west coast swing
That makes you shake it fast.
Can't control myself around,
His beat, his song, his tone
Shake at the thought of his strokin' me
Like he strokes his trumbone
He plays me like he plays the keys,
And gives me all he has
Way too deep to be hip hop,
My papa is that jazz
Thats why I run the fan club,
He's got my soul entwined
There's nothing more that I can say,
The man is musically inclined.
Can a sistah get an encore?
makes music with his touch
I've got a need for his melody,
His song gives me a rush
When he walks into the room,
I can feel the heat
'Cause he's about to put it down,
And I've got front row seats.
His hands to my neck,
Soft as the picolo
His lips they follow close behind,
Like 'welcome to the show'
He whisper harmonies to me,
His fingers in my hair.
"Tell me what it is you want"
Damn, do I hear music in the air?
He's got a perfect pitch
And his tone is so refined
Forgive me if I am a fan,
the man is musically inclined.
He holds me like I'm his guitar,
And knows how to strum my strings
Or like the grand piano
The way he tickles my ivories
My body moves to his music
like the waves within the seas.
No slowin' down, once he's warmed up
To lead his symphony.
His kisses smooth as alto sax,
The way they leave his lips.
They settle like the beat of the snare,
on my back, my neck, my hips.
His rythem is intoxicationg,
Damn if I can sit still.
Something about it is hypnotic,
Bends me to his will.
His lyric is amazing,
His ballad's so devine
A workman worthy of his hire,
The man is musically inclined
His sweet refrain wraps itself
Around my silhoette
And its somethin' like the rain,
because its bound to get you wet
If Darious is The blues in Nina's left thigh,
And the funk thats in her right,
Than he's the gospel in my mornng song
And the jazz that fills my night
I bet you think I'm trippin'.
Like he's got me out my mind
But I'm sorry yawl I can't help it,
The man is musically inclined
So dont mind if I pay extra
And get a backstage pass
But baby-boy plays that west coast swing
That makes you shake it fast.
Can't control myself around,
His beat, his song, his tone
Shake at the thought of his strokin' me
Like he strokes his trumbone
He plays me like he plays the keys,
And gives me all he has
Way too deep to be hip hop,
My papa is that jazz
Thats why I run the fan club,
He's got my soul entwined
There's nothing more that I can say,
The man is musically inclined.
Can a sistah get an encore?
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