Song Length |
3:04 |
Genre |
R & B - General |
Tempo |
Medium Slow (91 - 110) |
Lead Vocal |
Duet Female |
Mood |
Uptight |
Subject |
Arrogance |
Language |
English |
Era |
2000 and later |
Lyrics
I hear you talkin all your street talk and I wonder what's your deal
gamin up on all these broke down broads , the only ones that think that your for real
wearin fake fly suits, brushin off like damn I'm fine
notice me noticin you, walkin over just to catch me time
mr. wanna be, you wanna be a player
mr. wanna be, no mea prethis mae na ah
mr. wanna be
tipped his hat and took his shades off, flashin his ice all up in my face
spelled his number almost fell back, you don't even know my name
I left him standing there at the club as I walked away
trippin off the dirt I through, backin up cause you lost your game
Chorus
Callin me mr. wanna be standin in front a me, lookin in your eyes seein that you wantin me
damn chica you bad senorita I'm wonderin if that shake comes with papa's frita's
you say my style is whacked nah I'm passinn in fact you got punked by this cat like Aston
I could pull you any day now how am I supposed to like your friend when her teeth was messed up anyway, I'm stayin in my pimp status and I know you love them eyes that you seen under my sunglasses, so how could you ever doubt me, you just wrote a song about me and I'm the jerk.
Chorus