Estelle feat. Kanye West
American Boy
Shine (2008)

(Blackened) <

    Emaj7                             Cmaj7
(K) This a number one champion sound, yeah, Estelle, we 'bout to get down
    Am                                                           D7
    Who the hottest in the world right now? Just touched down in London town
    Bet they give me a pound, tell 'em put the money in my hand right now
    Tell the promoter we need more seats, we just sold out all the floor seats      (!)

  (E) Take me on a trip, I'd like to go someday
      Take me to New York, I'd love to see L.A.
      I really want to come kick it with you
      You'll be my American boy

(E) He said, "Hey, sister, it's really, really nice to meet ya"                     (creux)
    I just met this 5'7" 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 M.I.A.                                                 (rembarque)
    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 likin' this American boy, American boy                                      (!)

  Refrain

  Ladada...  x 3
  Will you be my American boy, American boy    

(E) 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 lookin' fresh to death, I'm lovin' those Shell Toes
    Walkin' that walk, talk that slick talk
    I'm likin' this American boy, American boy

  Refrain  fin :

- Tell 'em, wagwan blud

(K) Who killin' 'em in the UK? Everybody gonna say, "You, K"
    Reluctantly, 'cause most of this press don't fuck with me                       (!)
    Estelle once said to me, "Cool down, down, don't act a fool now, now"           (creux)
    I always act a fool ow, ow, ain't nothin' new now, now

    He crazy, I know what you're thinkin', Ribena, I know what you're drinkin'
    Rap singer, chain blinger, holler at the next chick soon as you're blinkin'

    What's your persona about this Americana rhymer?                                (rembarque)
    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 peacoat, 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 lotta wags wanna hear it
    And I'm feelin' like Mike at his baddest, like The Pips at their gladdest
    And I know they love it, so to hell with all that rubbish

(E) (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?) Ooh
    Would you be my American boy, American boy?

  Refrain  (Chicago, San Francisco Bay)

  Refrain  (New York, see L.A.)

  Ladada...

(fade out)