Where the mama baby go

It's so unfortunate. Baby girl don't like to count. 

She left school a fillin' school boys was nothing else but her lips a pout. 

Short skirts, cropped tees may do a lot for the eyes and the thighs

and the boys and their dreams

but baby girl won't ever learn to count. 

Baby girl plays games with her cigarette smoke that make her feel big

feigning age can't be too hard with vial and spoke, 

All grown she'll still play like a  baby gone lost

Shakin boys for their money asking;

"Where do mama babies go"