Rainha da Pista

What does she have
What does she have
What does she have
What does she have
What does she have
What does she have
To give

But I know, queen of the dance floor who conquers whoever passes by
Hot as the sun, sends smoke signals
And when she leaves everything becomes dull (dull)
But her skirt tells where she wants to go
Difficult is knowing how to approach me
What does she have to give?
Girl

She throws a dress, babe
The same one that looks awesome
Today I want you on this side, drinking a distilled drink
Whiskey, champagne, energy drink with vodka
And since you gave me your number
It's certain, today I'll dial

She's the best Papatinho (you speak)
Looks like a Playboy cover
She noticed a crazy guy
Like me and forgot the playboys (haha)
So wake up, beautiful, since you don't want a rich guy
Come to the den of your Rio rapper

Don't even think about movies and popcorn, we'll exchange ideas later
And tell your friends (shhh) not to gossip
You pretend to like it, applauding like a seal
If she's jealous... relax, nothing will change you

I know you want privilege, elected the best since school
Today a little older, let me feel your sweat
You're tuned in to CONE and already know my songs by heart
You revel on the dance floor and say: Give More, Give more

Wants to be like a queen in the club
Wants a little dress and Versace underwear
Wants to look beautiful in the line (socialite)
And adrenaline to an island on a yacht

I want a tuxedo, cane, and a night out
A Ferrari, a Porsche, and a Maserati
A studio, a skateboard, and wakeboarding on the yacht
To be calm in a mansion like Eike's

But I know, queen of the dance floor who conquers whoever passes by
Hot as the sun, sends smoke signals
When she leaves everything becomes dull
But her skirt tells where she wants to go
Difficult is knowing how to approach me
What does she have to give?

Girl, you don't know what you want
If it's to leave or be my woman
So beautiful, decide what you want
If it's not Tcer, it's just once... And damn!

In my tricks, if I hang out with the strip-tease friends
You look for me in the wee hours, can't stand me sad
And me with whiskey, gin, fillets, hallucination
You find me on the dance floor, the girls watch the argument

I don't want to make a scene
I hate living problems
When it's my faith, a phone call never solves it
The basis of the relationship is the dialogue I do
It ends in sex,