(Yeah)
See you gotta clap your hands to this (yeah)
Snap your fingers, thump your feet, wink your eye
Do somethin', baby (well)
But you gotta move to this though (that what you gotta do)
That's real (let's go)
Yellow world
I gathered y'all here today to become a witness
To something you may have never seen or heard before
This something, this thing I wish to share with y'all today (go 'head)
You know, it's hotter than fire
And it hurt worse than pain (I know that's right)
This here something you old folk may not know too much about (I heard that)

This here (what it is?)
This is the, the young'n blues, y'all (yeah)
Hey, I got the, the young'n blues, y'all
I got the, the young'n blues, y'all
I got the young'n blues, y'all
Check me out, listen

I met her when I was young, but she was younger
With a body like a woman, so her age meant nothing
I had to get her number
After how she made them Daisy dukes fit her all summer
I'm wishing I could hit her all summer
And all she ever wanted was for young Weezy to love her
But all I ever wanted was to cum easy and dump her
But that didn't come easy
'Cause she ended up being my baby mother
And then I felt smothered, but little did I know
I'd never find the same girl inside another
But I never thought that I'd be looking for her
And I never thought that late at night
When I'm in the mix, laying down with some chick
That suddenly it'll click
How this broad in my drawers don't know shit
Bout what I did 'fore I was big
When's there's a woman with my kid where I should be
She screamed to me (what?)
My love, my patience, my pain (okay)
Nigga, please

I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)

I met her after the fame
And she ain't even like me, but I got her after the game
Mami was a nice piece, young Cali sweet thing
Made her into wifey and then reality changed
It was going good, I was happy again
But then things got rapidly strange
And it had to be Wayne
She was still a virgin, what more can I ask from a dame?
But I was a bastard, I asked for the pain
Now my ass in the rain
And she got a new life, the picture flipped
And none of it includes Weez and all his bullshit (Shit)
And I remember the Bahamas for the weekend
We was freaking in the suite
And she looked sweet enough to beat it up
'Til we began to sleep and now
I'm dreaming 'bout the Victoria Secret lingerie
Told me, keep it, she ain't want moms to see it
And just think I once saw it on the girl's body
But now all I'm seeing is nobody

I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)

See, I never really ran, but no gentleman
All I know is big pimpin' ma'am
I'm just tryna be Weezy (Weezy)
And the perfect husband just might be too hard to find in me, Weezy
Baby girl, you gotta work with ya boy
'Cause all of that cursing it be hurting ya boy
Look for the better not the worst in ya boy
And maybe I can be ya boy, ya know what I'm sayin'
But see this here is not your everyday love tune
It's the story of your everyday thug dude
And in your mind, you prolly thinkin' we don't love you
But on the real, we just not used to what love do
And please consider that
We were taught to love money, ice, cars, and clothes
Love pussy but you don't love them hoes
Love ya niggas, love ya children
Now if they got a bitch who could love that
Holla back

I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
Yeah, I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
Young Weezy got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)
I got the young'n blues, y'all (da-da-da-da-da)

Now see, pimps, players
Take your hat off to this
'Cause you 'gon rub your head after you hear this one, man
Yes, man, you know what I'm sayin'?
Hold your cries 'til after the jam, people
This here is real, you gotta feel me
Fee, they gotta feel, me
Ya know, alright, baby, holla back

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): B. Thomas, D.P. Carter