O, Teacher, Teacher, can't you see?
How much my grade-point means to me?

If you'll just meet me after class,
I'll let you paw at my sweet ass.

If taste you would, my candied breath,
You must forget about that "F".

Seventh-grade shouldn't be this hard,
So let's fix up my re-port card.

And if I bare a budding breast,
That mean ol' "D" in peace must rest.

I've seen your leer, your pervy drool:
You lust for girls in Middle School!

If hairless cunny, you get to see,
Then we can skip that average "C."

I've been your front-row panty flirt,
My spread-wide knees and too-short skirt,

So if you'd finger juvie snatch,
The honest "B's" you'll have to match.

I do this for the grade I'll get,
It's not 'bout you I'm sopping wet.

And if you fuck me all the way,
This virgin has to get an "A."

I may be young, but I can breed,
So do think twice, 'fore me you seed:

If pregnantly I catch my bus,
That "A" of mine best have a "plus!"