This a number one champion sound

Yeah, Estelle, we about to get down

Who the hottest in the world right now?

Just touched down in London town

Bet they give me a pound

Tell them put the money in my hand right now

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 some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA

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 5-foot-7 guy who's just my type

Like the way he's speakin', his confidence is peakin'

Don't like his baggy jeans but I might like what's underneath them

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 bredrin

I'm liking this American boy, American boy

Take me on a trip I'd like to go some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll 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

Dressed 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 some day

Take me to New York, I'd love to see LA

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy

Tell 'em wah gwaan, blud!

Who killing them in the UK?

Everybody going to say "You, K!"

Reluctantly, because most of this press don't **** with me

Estelle once said to me, "Cool down, down

Don't act a fool now, now."

I always act a fool oww, oww

Ain't nothing new now, now

He crazy, I know what you thinking

Ribena, I know what you're drinking

Rap singer, chain blinger

Holler at the next chick soon as you're blinking

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 pea coat, 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 ca-a-ash

'Cause a lot of wags want to hear it

And I'm feeling like Mike at his baddest

Like The Pips at their 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?

Could you be mine?

Could you be my love, my love?

Would you be my American boy, American boy?

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

Take me to Chicago, San Francisco bay

I really want to come kick it with you

You'll be my American boy, American boy

La, la la, la la, eya

La, la la, la la, eya

La, la la, la la,