I could feel your eyes
While they were burning
Wwith such intensity
You make me feel dirty
I can almost feel
Your hands all over me
Did your momma never say
Its rude to keep staring
If you're caught
Then you should look away
You ain't got nothing to feel my breathe
You ain't got nothing to match my genes
On intuition i do rely
Loss submission i will defy
On contrary to what you believe
You don't do nothing for me
Just sit down and relax
You're stressing to the max
You never gonna get to me
Just sit down, give me space
Boy you're in my face
We'll never have a history
Sit down, sit down, sit down
Your just a thrill
You got the bills but
Boy you are killing me
I am looking for the kind of guy
Tthat's full of life and sensitivity
Did your papa never teach
You have to treat a woman like a lady
No you don't survive...
You don't do anything to ease my mind
You don't do nothing but waste my time
Shame I'm breaking your master plan
Just start walking and be a man
Naturally You want to believe
That you do something for me
Just sit down and relax
You're stressing to the max
You never gonna get to me
Just sit down, give me space
Boy you're in my face
We'll never have a history
Sit down, sit down, sit down
You're a women talking boydriven
womanizing foreign living
I just want you out of my face
Small town no mind think you looking so fine
But you don't do anything for me
Just sit down...
Jest taki ogien, co nie spala domów, ksiazek, flag,
A ludzie niosa go przed soba I wierza w jego sile.
Kiedy plonie nad stadionem I w milionach serc,
Cichna spory, a nienawisc w milosc zmienia sie
Ten ogien plone dla mistrzów, co wzniesli sie do gwiazd.
I dla przegranych, którzy slabosc swa zlamali jszcze raz.
To Atlanta, Atlanta, Gdy spiewaja stadiony - milkna wojny.
To Atlanta, Atlanta, Niech duch Jej zawsze trwa.
W ludziach trwa.
Byl w Atlancie inny ogien straszny, grozny, zly,
Jak sciana wznosil sie przed Scarlett,
Nim ... przeminaa z wiatrem.
Dzis czerwona ziemia Tary Rodzi dobre sny,
A nad glowami ludzi plonie Olypijski znicz.
Ten ogien plonie Dla mistrzów, co wznisli sie do gwiazd.
I dla przegranych, którzy slabosc swa Zlamali jszcze raz.
To Atlanta, Atlanta, Gdy spiewaja stadiony - milkna wojny.
To Atlanta, Atlanta ... Niech duch Jej zawsze trwa.
W ludziach trwa.
To Atlanta, Atlanta ...
I chwala tym, co gonia wiatr, I chwala tym, co lapia dal,
Co walcza tak jak lwy, na smierc By za meta objac sie!
To Atlanta, Atlanta, Gdy spiewaja stadiony - milkna wojny.
To Atlanta, Atlanta ... Niech duch Jej zawsze trwa.
W ludziach trwa ...
To Atlanta, Atlanta ...