Music: Nathan Lane/Facundo Bainat
I can remember the star shine
I can remember feeling fine
I can remember empanadas and cheap wine
En la cocina, like, el cocinero soy yo, pero
Something's on the menu the cocinero don't know, hallo
A lady in the place that got that style and grace--you see
Stealing from Biggie's a thing I like to do
Cause only Biggie can describe women as beautiful as you
Bet you didn't know but I'm not a gambling man
But things changed when I saw your hand
You holding two aces, up there above your cheeks
You starin' at me into me and I'm feeling ****ing weak
**** feeling meek, look like that and I feel no need to speak
Gonna make a passion play like I'm Christ, bay-bay, can't look
your way, just get off the stage, I think I'll start with "hey"
See what happens, it could happen, remember later 10 years and a day
Yo, yo, pausa, play, el relato
Preparo el guiso, sentí con el olfato
Fiesta en el rioba, plenty mina', but I'm like, nah
Thinking about the lady in back, dressed in black
Looking at me like a professional killer, thriller
On the rooftop, vanilla, not a drop, figure, I can't figure out where it stop
Make that body rock, naughty thoughts makin' my heart stop
Cocinero, bajate el fuego, ya está
Think about you lying next to me
Thinking about what you gonna do next to me, flex with me,
Vexing me, blessing me, hit the apex with me,
Perplexingly you bested me,
This is testing me, lexically. I just wanna tell you plain and directly
****ing abuse me, ****ing use me
I don't care what you do, just ****ing do me
Do we—oo-wee—do we do we? Can it be, you and me?
Call the doctor, I'm feelin' woozy