Verse 1: Carollne, Carollne, all the guys would say she's mighty fine But mighty fine only got you somewhere half the time And the other half either got you cursed out, or coming up short Yeah, now dig this, even though You'd need a golden calculator to divide The time it took to look inside and realize that Real guys go for real down to Mars girls, yeah!
Hook: I know you'd like to thank you shit don't stank But lean a little bit closer See that roses really smell like boo-boo Year, roses really smell like boo-boo
Carollne, she's the reason for the word "bitch" I hope she's speeding on the way to the club Trying to hurry up and get to some Baller or singer or somebody like that And put on her makeup in the mirror And crush, crush, crash into a ditch She needs a golden calculator to divide The time it look to look Inside And realize that real guys go for Real down to Mars girls, yeah!
Big Boi: Well she's got a hottie body, but her attirude is potty When I met her at a party she was hardly action naughty I said "would you call me?" She said "Pardon me, are you ballin"? I said "Darling, you sound like a prostitute pursing" Oh so you're one them freaks, get geeked at the sight of ATM receipts But game been peeped, dropping names she's weak Trickin' off this bitch is lost, must take me for a geek a quick way to eat A neat piace to sleep, a rent-a-car for a week, a trick for a treat Now go on the raw sex, my AIDS test in flawless Regardless, We don't want to get involved with no lawyers And judges just to hold grudges in a courtroom I wanna see ya support bra not support you! Better come back down to Mars Girl, quit chasin cars What happens when the dough dets low Bitch, you ain't that fine no way...no way... no way Crazy bitch Crazy bitch