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[Verse 1: Elbee Thrie, Dyme-A-Duzin]

I'm a fan of you

You looking mighty tangible

So let me show you what these hands can do

I was checking you out like, one, two

And we can do something special if you want to

Let me make a plan, figure what I'm gon' do

I'ma hit you with the smooth-smooth jazz

And when you're not looking, I'll be staring at your ass

Summer, I'll tell you what you want to hear

Tell me what you're gonna to wear, delete your underwear

(Yeah)

Baby, I don't want to hurt you

I just want to work you, yeah, we can take it there

(Ahh-oooh)

I don't romance but we can hold hands

And do a run-along while we slow dance

Let's perform, you don't need rehearsal

All eyes on you, Union Square, that's your circle

[Hook: Dyme-A-Duzin]

Baby, excuse me if I ((?) 'bout a bitch)

And when you're talking, I'll be (Looking at your lips)

I don't want to upset ya

'Cause with those whamsz

Hey, yeah, sheesh, uh

[Verse 2: Dyme-A-Duzin]

She want a man

A boyfriend, hubby, boo

But I'm not feeling her plans

But when it come to when you get that feeling again

Now that I think, that sounds right

Already, you are in my eyes

But she want to go up and dine

(So we) Grab some din'

(I wanna) Hop right in

(She wanna) Have some kids

(I wanna) Bust some jizz

I don't really, really don't know why she putting me through this

But if this is what you want, I guess this what it is

[Hook: Dyme-A-Duzin]

Baby, please excuse me if I ((?) 'bout a bitch)

And when you're talking, I'll be (Looking at your lips)

I don't want to upset you

'Cause with those whamsz

[Intermission: Sheriff PJ]

Come on, baby, let me talk to you, real quick

You know? See how I do, ha

[Verse 3: Sheriff PJ]

I'm trying to start a conversation, what's up?

I know time is slimmer than your waist and I'm stuck

But, why you thicker than a Snickers? It's nuts

To most, that's too much, but me, it's a plus

Call me the tan Michelangelo, when I paint

'Cause ain't no telling where my hands can go

What you think, girl?

Hop up in my van, and go

Picasso, run your hands below