proper patola nakhara ae swag
suit patiyala shahi chunni teri black
o munde honke bharde tainu takk takk ke
nache jadon hath tu lakk utte rakkh ke
proper patola nakhara ae swag
suit patiyala shahi chunni meri black
o munde honke bharde mainu takk takk ke
nacchan jadoon hath mai lakk utte rakh ke

look rabb ne husna di rakhi koi thod nahi
gallan di laali nu makeup di koi lod nahi
phull ne gulab di bull ne janab di
sonh lagge mummy di mainu tera koi tod nahi
thodi te til kaala kudiye ni baata paave
suit patiala gucci vucci nu maatan paave
ghar tera ni main aape labh loon
saanu bass dass ja tu naam proper patola

mai laa dun tujhe haar pehna dun tujhe kangan
ho taiyyar ghuma dun tujhe london
hath me rakkhun hath rakkhe jis cheez pe
hire jadba dun teri kaali kameez pe
aajaa mere paas kar guzarish paise ki kya baat
kar dun noto ki barish
itna na soch haath mera thaam
tujhe yaad rahegi zindagi bhar ye shaam

ja mundeya ve tere bas di ni gal
na nacch mere naal aake tu close
haan chal patlii gali se tu nikal
tere jaison ko rakhti hoon on-toes
kyun bole lie tu na kare try tu
ja ja tu bete ghar ja proper patola

proper patola nakhara aee swag
suit patiyala shahi chunni teri black
o munde honke bharde tainu takk takk ke
nache jadoon hath tu lakk utte rakkh ke
proper patola nakhara aee swag
suit patiyala shahi chunni teri black
o munde honke bharde mainu takk takk ke
nacchan jadon hath mai lakk utte rakh ke

A proper Patola, a swagger in its sway,
A Patiala suit, your shawl a midnight's play.
Eyes of boys, they watch, they yearn to see,
When you dance, hands upon your hips, so free.
A proper Patola, a swagger in its grace,
A Patiala suit, my shawl a shadowed space.
Boys they stare, they gaze at me, so bold,
When I dance, hands upon my hips, controlled.

God's artistry, a beauty without end,
Cheeks ablaze, no need for make-believe to lend.
Like roses bloom the lips, a velvet kiss,
By my mother's honor, darling, you can't be dismissed.
A mole of ebony, on the chin's soft crest,
Patiala suits, Gucci's touch, put to the test.
I will find your home, your hidden door,
Just tell me your name, my proper Patola.

I'll weave you garlands, bracelets I will bind,
Prepare yourself, to London we'll unwind.
Your hand in mine, where I set my desire,
Diamonds I'll embed on your dark attire.
Come close to me, why worry of the cost?
A rain of fortune, freely to be tossed.
Don't hesitate, take my hand and stay,
This evening's memory, to last for aye.

Go, boy, your reach, beyond your mortal game,
Don't dance with me, to closeness you can't lay claim.
Yes, slip away, down the narrow lane,
Such as you, I keep upon the strain.
Why speak of love, why even to try?
Go, son, return home, proper Patola, goodbye.

A proper Patola, a swagger in its sway,
A Patiala suit, your shawl a midnight's play.
Eyes of boys, they watch, they yearn to see,
When you dance, hands upon your hips, so free.
A proper Patola, a swagger in its grace,
A Patiala suit, my shawl a shadowed space.
Boys they stare, they gaze at me, so bold,
When I dance, hands upon my hips, controlled.