American Boy (feat. Kanye West)

This a number 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 'em put the money in my hand right now (Yes)

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 someday

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A

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 ya

I just met this five foot seven 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'ma like what's underneath 'em

And no, I ain't been to MIA

I heard that Cali never rains and New York's wide awake

First let's see the West End, I'll show you to my bredren

I'm liking this American boy, American boy

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go someday

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

La, da-da, da-da, dee-da

La, da-da, da-da, dee-da

La, da-da, da-da, dee-da

Will you be my American boy?

American boy

Can we get away this weekend? Take me to Broadway

Let's go shopping, maybe 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 someday

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy

Tell 'em wagwan blud

Who killin' 'em in the U.K.? Everybody gonna say, "You, K"

Reluctantly 'cause most of this press don't fuck with me

Estelle once said to me, "Cool down, down, don't act a fool now, now"

I always act a fool, ow, ow, ain't nothin' new, now, now

He crazy, I know what ya thinkin', Ribena, I know what you're drinkin'

Rap singer, chain blinger, holla at the next chick soon as you're blinkin'

What's your persona, about this Americana rhymer?

Am I shallow 'cause all my clothes designer? (Uh)

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 cash, 'cause a lot of wags wanna hear it

And I'm feeling like Mike at his baddest, like the Pips at they gladdest

And I know they love it, so to hell with all that rubbish

(Would you be my love, my love?) Could you be mine?

(Would you be my love, my love?) Would you be mine?

(Could you be my love, my love?) Ooh, would you be my American boy?

American boy

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go someday (Ooh, someday)

Take me to Chicago, San Francisco Bay

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy (Be my American boy)

Take me on a trip, I'd like to go someday (I'd like to go someday)

Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A (See L.A)

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

La, da-da, da-da, dee-da (La-la)

La, da-da, da-da, dee-da

La, da-da, da-da, dee-da

Will you be my American boy?