| Someone spilled blood many years ago
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| someone spilled blood but do you know
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| that from the backwoods
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| where the Chuck Berrys grow
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| come your long tall
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| daddies of a rock and roll
|
| Take me to your backwoods now
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| take me to your backwoods now
|
| Spinning’down from the clouds
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| like a tornado
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| spinnin’out of control
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| like a psychedelic soul
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| with a rhythm hittin’harder
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| than Larry Holmes
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| come your long tall
|
| daddies of rock and roll
|
| Take me to your backwoods now
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| take me to your backwoods now
|
| Mr. Uplift Mofo — my man Bo Diddley
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| hit sippin’a bottle of nickle ripple
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| play the lickity split finger licking licks
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| for all you wicked city slick chicks
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| and all you nitty gritty hick
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| we’ll make your nipples ripple
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| make you wanna dip your dipple
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| make you wanna soak your hickory stick
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| because my man has a grip on it and I do mean on it which brings to mind
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| a very sinister minister kind of guy
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| a man named Little Richard
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| born to make them bitches stir
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| that’s right he’ll make the sweet substance drip
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| from the middle of your hillbilly lips
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| and like the farmer milk his cow
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| the Howling Wolf will howl
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| and since times does allow
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| you all can
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| Take me to your backwoods now
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| Take me to your backwoods now
|
| Take me to your backwoods now |