| Momma was an opium smoker
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| She light it with a red-hot poker
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| She would never take a bath
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| We would ask her, she’d just laugh
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| Because our momma was an opium smoker
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| She made it with this gentleman, Lincoln
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| They met on a boat, it was sinkin'
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| When she shoulda gone overboard, momma say «No way, oh my Lord
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| Only of opium smoke am I thinkin'.»
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| Oh, help us, Lord
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| We can’t afford
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| Her destructive ways
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| You oughta' hear what she says!
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| She would just sit on her fat ass
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| Yell at us, «Fill up my wine glass!»
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| She would tell us, «How sad
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| You won’t never know your dad.»
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| Oh yeah, my momma was an opium smoker
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| Go, momma, go
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| Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
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| She hide the money and the drugs in the mattress
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| I wonder how long she’s been at this
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| And I say, «Mom, bang the gong
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| Can’t you see it’s gone all wrong?»
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| My momma was an opium smoker |