Ooh, shawty snap in that red dress,
I’m T-Pain, got the auto in my breath;
I’m a buy you a drank, then another,
Till the moon fall down and the beat go under.
We gon’ toast to the sky, drip C?roc on ice,
Put your phone on flight, disappear tonight;
Tell the bartender “keep the peach Ciroc comin’,”
When the hook drop, baby, promise you gon’ love it.