CINDERELLA, Pt. 1 lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah

[Verse 1]
Clock strike ten
Hunnid twenty minutes 'til the party 'posed to end
Lil' mama thicker than the grip up on a pen
Type of ass that make a n*gga wanna run and tell a friend
Pardon my French— ooh, oui
Askin' around, who's she? I swear I gotta get her
Accordin' to the homies ain't nobody ever met her
But some n*ggas call her Cindy and the others call her Ella-D
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 whatevеr
I done been around but I never seen a bеauty like hers
Lordy, them curves make a n*gga get to stutterin' and trippin' on words
No one sleepin', n*ggas 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, ooh

[Chorus]
What she doing at a party like this? (Like this)
Walked in here and had a aura like bliss (Like bliss)
She ain't worried bout the ice on my wrist
She got real wit, she want real sh*t, real sh*t

[Verse 2]
And so I'm
Rolling this blunt over here and I
Overhear these two hatin'-ass hoes in the corner
Scowling and calling Ms. Cindy a foreigner
Ripping apart the blue gown that adorn her
In short, talking sh*t
It went something like this, tsk
"Ugh, why she here?
By the invitation think they made it quite clear
It's a celebration only for the graduation
Deadass, I ain't even hating, but she ain't in my year,"
"Girl, you ain't even lying
That b*tch think she muhf*ckin' fine
She ain't all that," is they muhf*ckin' blind?
n*gga, they doin' the most
If these b*tches wanna roast, I got the muhf*ckin time (sh*t)
Back to the mission
I done let her get up out my vision, cough, and this blunt hittin'
Party 'bout to end and I ain't even got to sippin'
Got D'Usse up in the cooler, I'm a fool or I'm trippin'
So I hop up out my chair, I swear I had a good listen
They starting to blow me, in a minute I'm dippin'
'Bout to make a drink and 'round the corner, I'm whipping
And I swear you won't believe who was waiting in the kitchen, kitchen
[Chorus]
What she doing at a party like this? (Like this)
Walked in here and had a aura like bliss (Like bliss)
She ain't worried bout the ice on my wrist
She got real wit, she want real sh*t, real sh*t