Lyrics: This is some kind of mania, who can stop her Girl, you are just magic, animal instinct Fashionable, like Italy, that's her style Your dances, your waist - some kind of magic This is some kind of mania, who can stop her Girl, you are just magic, animal instinct Fashionable, like Italy, that's her style Your dances, your waist - some kind of magic She turns me on fiercely, boldly and tightly (uh) Shot, shot to the head, and I'm on autopilot A messed-up baby in a bikini, but not a bottom And all her cash is earned with blood and sweat (uh) She-she is a catastrophe At night, she can be the queen of the ball (br-r, br-r) Her curves, uh, lead to criminality Trading her babyface, she didn't know That the more demand for her, the lower the price of the merchandise I grab her sweet poison - my temptation Hands lower, lower, higher, hands on the neck (Paco Rabanne) Paco Rabanne, expensive jewelry (let's go) That's all she needs Between us and her guys, there's a loophole in time I grow thanks to music, cash is the fertilizer How I enter the club, damn, the ladies get wet She smells like a flower, and I really love plants (ya-ya-ya) I take her home, not knowing the time (uh) I take her home on my knees Girl, you are just magic I would watch you seven days a week Shot, shot to the head and we fly This is some kind of mania, who can stop her Girl, you are just magic, animal instinct Fashionable, like Italy, that's her style Your dances, your waist - some kind of magic This is some kind of mania, who can stop her Girl, you are just magic, animal instinct Fashionable, like Italy, that's her style Your dances, your waist - some kind of magic
