Clock strike ten, hunnid twenty ‘til the party ‘posed to end
Lil’ mama thicker than the grip up on a pen
Type of ass that make a nigga wanna run and tell a friend
Pardon my French, who we? Askin’ around, who’s she?
I swear I gotta get her
Accordin’ to the homies ain’t nobody ever met her
But some niggas call her Cindy and the others call her Ella
Do you think that she’d be looking for a lady or a fella?
Judgin’ by the twinkle in eye, got me thinkin’ she be down for whatever
I done been around but I never seen a beauty like hers
Lordy, them curves make a nigga get to stutterin’ and trippin’ on words
No one sleepin’, niggas sheep and flockin’ to her like herds
But she muggin’, I don’t think she in the mood
I’ma roll a spliff and go and wait to make a move
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