| Now young bitches got it goin’on and here’s a new thing, |
| She looks of twenty-one, but she’s under eighteen, |
| Now picture a man with a plan, what’s he gonna do? |
| She’s only sixteen, but looks twenty-two, |
| And age isn’t a factor cuz she’s fine to the dude, |
| And plus she’s built like a truck there must be somethin’in her food, |
| Or her water, |
| Because she’s somebody’s daughter |
| Who’s attractive to a son, as well their father’s, |
| And they know this, that ass sticks with us, |
| And like my homie told me once she’s quite bootylicious, |
| Watch your mouth drop with them dubs that she threw on, |
| Dandy like candy, so you can get your chew on, |
| What’cha wanna do? What’cha gonna do? |
| When you find out that she’s far from twenty-two? |
| Yo it’s not the same G, when you game G, |
| With the dames drop a line like this before you do Do you qualify? It sure looks good to me. |
| Do you qualify? It sure looks good to me. |
| Second Verse: |
| What’s up with these bitches tryin’to play us like a fool? |
| Lookin’of age real proper, but just enrollin’in high school, |
| I’m callin''em collard greens cuz they’re corn bread fed, |
| Runnin’more game than what your homie Simon said, |
| Yo what is this, new statistic? |
| Went from pants and vaseline to short skirts and lipstick, |
| You ask who to blame? I don’t know but I’ma, |
| Take it upon myself, and blame it on they Mama, |
| For beatin’that ass with a baseball bat, |
| Swole it all up now it’s proper and fat, |
| Fed 'em attitudes, Big Macs, and milk, |
| Leave 'em all alone and it’s on in the jilt, |
| Or the house, cuz that’s where they open up they mouth, |
| So in the day she’s a child, at night she’s an adult, |
| And Diggity Domino I like to ride it like a tractor, |
| But there’s a question at hand because that age is a factor |
| Third Verse: |
| There was a man named Bill, on a Saturday night he went to a club, |
| And read a sign before he entered it saying eighteen and up, |
| But we know that’s just a game for the man, that’s runnin', |
| Thangs cuz he’s lettin’all the fly bitches come in, |
| Regardless of the age and shit, |
| But since this story’s about Bill let’s get back to it, |
| Bill met a collard green, she looks mean, |
| Ran a little game now she’s on the team, |
| You know what comes next, took her to the snooty, |
| Treated her like a salad, tossed up the booty, |
| Bill played it wrong, and he got lazy, |
| No protection, guess what, oopsy daisy! |
| Now baby’s pregnant, |
| Cuz Bill neglected, |
| To be protected, |
| Now he’s arrested, |
| One year under eighteen and you’re through, |
| So if you’re game drop a line like this before you do: |