She has colors, curves, flavors
I bring flowers, singers' sound
If my time's up, I gotta leave
In a crazy way, stay a bit
You see these black girls
And when she's having wine
To toast she says 'santé'
I met her through someone I knew
She's a cousin of a friend
I bumped into on a night out
She has colors, curves, flavors
I bring flowers, singers' sound
If my time's up, I gotta leave
In a crazy way, stay a bit
Of fishing for conversation
She said love and jealousy
Because if her jealousy vanished
Love would vanish too and
She liked Nutella, magazines, soap operas
The dance floor, the favela
Mad bad*ss, wordsmith and pretty
She read Sérgio Vaz, was a Mandela fan
And don't think she's easy, dude
She's not one of those chicks
She doesn't fit that rhyme
Nor with vulgar women
One night and nothing more
She has colors, curves, flavors
I bring flowers, singers' sound
If my time's up, I gotta leave
In a crazy way, stay a bit
And she wants, wants, wants, wants, wants, wants
And she wants, wants, wants, wants, wants, wants
And she wants, wants, wants, wants, wants, wants