bim bam


Flap my sole, bim bam:


Lo little Mama, got crackling hot

barbecure. Where Big Mama

at? Policeman came, honey? Why

he came?


Yes sir, this here my car. How come

we live out noth? We just likes

it there. Yes sir, this here my

wife. No we ain't. No, we ain't

go no marriage license long scusin

you counts our baby, big ole baby

in her mama lap. License be in

dresser drawer in candy box, where

she belong.


                 (All right honey, I'll

simmer down. I'll simmer on down.)


We stopper here to eat at a barbecure

place--officer. We cam back state

for my grandfather's funral. He done

passed las week. My motherlaw's someairs

bout. She's a respective lady and she'll

tell you the same story. She'll tell

you the same story. Boss, let us folks

go. Boss, let us folks get outa state.


Is there any point mentoring that I'm

not drunk and I'm not driving? Jus

flapped me my loose sole because I

enjoys it. Jus feeling gran. How come

I feels gran after a funral? Nobody

don know why he feels good, but I

sure felt fine. Granfather, he never

could leave this state walkin. He tol us

so. Them yellow roses, that red

dirt, they kep hol. But now he

got right away, safe an soun, safe an

soun. Boss, if you halds me in on drunk

drivin, what good it do? I got no

bails money. What good it do? (All

right, Little Mama, I hears you. But

honey, kin I hole it back? I hears you

good, you're coming through. Talk fast,

honey, talk loud. All right I'll go long

of the policeman. All right, I'll go long

of him quiet an nice.) You an big Mama,

you fine the bail, and us gentlemenall

fine the jail. Bim bam.


Come on along over, Big Mama. Where you

were? Heatin bottle? You missed the

fun. Big, don cry. I didn't do nothun.

I'll go long of the policeman. I'll go

long of the policeman nice an quiet. I'll

hole it back. I'll hole it back, Mama, I'll

hole it back, until I dies.