| Whoah, drop down, baby, you strike me kinda funny
|
| Handful of «Gimme», mouthful of «Thank you, honey»
|
| My mama don’t allow me to fool 'round all night long
|
| She said «Son, you may be young, child
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| Some woman may do you wrong»
|
| She say, all that powder, perfume, and paint
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| Makes me think you little girls, you are what you ain’t
|
| My mama don’t allow me to fool 'round all night long
|
| She said «Son, you may be young
|
| Some woman may do you wrong»
|
| Whoah, sweet peaches don’t come from the trees
|
| Sweet honey don’t, little girl, come from the bees
|
| My mama don’t allow me to fool 'round all night long
|
| She said «Son, you may be young
|
| Some woman may do you wrong»
|
| Come on
|
| I laid down last night, tryin' to get my rest
|
| My mind started ramblin' like the wild geese in the west
|
| My mama don’t allow me to fool 'round all night long
|
| She said «Son, you may be young
|
| Some woman may do you wrong
|
| Well there’s two, two trains runnin'
|
| They ain’t never goin' my way
|
| Two trains runnin'
|
| They ain’t never goin' my way
|
| You know, one goin' at midnight
|
| Yeah, the other wait for day
|
| I said, drop down, baby, you strike me kinda funny
|
| You got a handful of «Gimme», mouthful of «Thank you, honey»
|
| My mama don’t allow me to fool 'round all night long
|
| She said «Son, you may be young, child
|
| Some woman may do you wrong» |