| Hold the pigeon, keep the trumpet
Reassure the fly
That if you have breast
In the Catherine Zeta with Stylite
Though a bit dry
No one challenges her, she is all a goal
As a trophy in track-and-field
As a jump to the top
Like a good long homerun
Behind her is a fan club Palgas
And she shakes, and my pigeon Knock
Think of ugly things
Pa 'que no fight
With its high-voltage nalgaje
And her lace outfit
She is the Aguacatona
It's what castor
With its European Stylite Rome
Watering to 'the smell in the lobby
I saw her, saw her as cross-eyed
And near me in the disco
Guilla'o by Sisqo
And I throw like a cliff
"Look, you're alone?"
Is there a full moon, you be my wolf? "
I have a Bulova and I'm in a limo!
Inside it smells like pine!
Do not be afraid, I am a kind fine!
I dance anything!
Indeed, I shot the Chinese split!
Are you scared about the Chinese?
Do not get hysterical!
I dance like Chayanne in "Fiesta En America", then! "
"Oh, baby, hush!
Avoid rubbing! "
Diablo, this was foul ball ...
Moreover, by means of punch ...
I have tira'o with a rocket launcher ...
(With a bit of blush, grab the touch!)
(And the kids give them flush!)
(Lie pa 'back, my skirt has thorns!)
(My bold, I'm not your china!)
(With a bit of blush, grab the touch!)
(And the kids give them flush!)
(Lie pa 'back, my skirt has thorns!)
(My bold, I'm not your china!)
Okay, I stay on track Pega'o
But I have more strings
Voy pa 'bar
Give me a shot of rum
Pa 'grab the son
That this stubborn such that estilla
Any devil catches
For my mother to throw the brides
For married women, and to the boards
I'm going a hundred miles without control
Now I will outshine the Armor-All
With the rather high self-esteem
Because the night is long
And if it goes fine, goes palga
Mira, mira, mira
For, partner, suaveson
You go more violent than Sylvester Stallone
Low levels of action, my brother
There's no hurry ...
(But I have a cheese!)
Look, Bobby, forget it
Look, when you come in.
You you take slow the
You see three pieces of gum mint
Pa 'knock down the smell of cigarette
First, it ensures that no corillo
That this alone, and if someone walks
Well, you Guillas of the scoundrel
You go from the back, where this cargo
Listo pa 'kicking up cemetery
Reunion, and slow, do not say anything
Your maw and swallows, which will begin the saga
And I let go as if at home
We wrapped our masses
In a fat salad bar
The skin muddy 'in sweat sauce
She curándome as any nurse
Squeezing the leather as cepeda
All a chimera, a mixture diablita 'with bag
We were dancing all night
Until I came out dark circles
I did the witch witchcraft
As goldfish in fish bowl left me floating
Heating the broth, directly to the mambo
Wasting no time, as you know
The candy is as low slow
Blow your breath minty smell
Well guayadito to Freddy Kenton
Well, when I'm going to talk
Pa 'ask the cellular
He managed to escape
But I poderle spreads
My shaving cream
This does not make, pai
(With a bit of blush, grab the touch!)
(And the kids give them flush!)
(Lie pa 'back, my skirt has thorns!)
(My bold, I'm not your china!)
(With a bit of blush, grab the touch!)
(And the kids give them flush!)
(Lie pa 'back, my skirt has thorns!)
(My bold, I'm not your china!) |
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