Lyrics:
Ricky can you hear me cry
Didn't even say goodbye
No one looks and no one sees
Ricky won't you tell me please
Tell me, tell me, tell me
Oohhh Ricky
Scratched his head then pulled his ear
Reached out for a glass of beer
Ricky's hand
Ricky's hand
From the pocket, he pulled five pound
Ricky
Hey Lucy, I'm home
Oh Ricky, you're so fine
You're so fine you blow my mind
Hey Ricky, hey Ricky
Oh Lucy, you're so fine
You're so fine you blow my
now she can't find at home
Oh Ricky wants a man of her
She wants a man of her
Ricky wants a man of her own
Mama says her little girl won't talk
Ricky! Ricky! (Ricky)
Shoot my shot I'm taking that risk
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Shootin' my shot I'm loading that clip
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
Mira que jugador
el loco Centurion
ahora se tira pasos bailando esta cancion
baila como Ricky, Ricky, Ricky
baila como Ricky, Ricky, Ricky
baila
OK
OK, OK, OK, OK
Ok, such a
OK, OK, OK, OK
Ok, such a
OK
OK
OK
OK, O-O-O
OK, OK, OK, OK
Ok, such a
OK, OK, OK, OK
Ok, such a
OK
the table
You could see she was unable
So she ran into the bedroom
She was struck down, it was her doom
Annie, are you ok? So, Annie are you ok?
Are
buddy sit down so I can concentrate on my solo....ok that's it, you would think that and artist could play a solo once in a while with ou any
Scratched his head, then pulled his ear
Reached out for a glass of beer
Ricky's hand [Repeat: x1]
From the pocket it pulled five pound
Ricky
Scratched his head, then pulled his ear
Reached out for a glass of beer
Ricky's hand [Repeat: x1]
From the pocket it pulled five pound
Ricky
Ricky:
Venga,
aha, sige
Yo soy joven to mayor
eso ya lo se muy bien
en las cosas del amor
no hay edad y no hay porque
no me importa que diran
dame
I am a pop artist so my medium is
Public opinion and the world is my canvas
'I’m sorry' is something that you can
Use a lot it gives
You
"Yes, yes the original"
"Ricky, you the nigga don't forget it" (6X)
"Ok, ok, ok, ok" (6X)
[Slick Rick]
Well as you know, thousand tear off they
Ricky Boy, Ricky Boy, You got somethin' left to deal with
What you gonna do about merchandise?
Ricky Boy, You got the money, you got somethin' left
was written in a hotel room in New York City
Right about the time a friend of ours, Little Steven
Was putting together a record of artists against
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