EPMD - Hardcore song lyrics

EPMD - Hardcore song lyrics

Hardcore to make the brothers act fools (4x)


When I turn a party out, all hands is in the air
Some say it's chill, New York throw chairs
The punk funk sound to make a sane man flip
Girls rush the stage, faggots cold dip
Low to avoid the caps and blows
By the gangbanners at the B-boy shows
Wit the cops trying to control the crowd
But they can't, systems crank "So What'cha Saying"'s pumping loud
Blows are thrown, heads are flown like Pan Am
Brothers licking off like the son of Sam and
The bass continues to thump
Some brothers hit the parking lot to go pop trunks
Hoes are slapped, jewels are snatched
Brothers are caught in the cross fire without no caps
And on my way out, I heard a sucker scream and shout
"Niggas, Niggas", yea, cold turn the party out


(E Double)

Rap combat squares sat and I attack
Any crab MC that's down wit the wack
And I wreck and if I can not snap a neck
Throw a knock, I'll blow and look for a tech
I'm terror, new edition to rap era
I can't be beat, I'm too sweet plus clever
I'm smart, yes, I'm a so called genius
I'm equip wit the thinking cap they call ?(Keenison)?
Yo, wit that, I can break fool
Especially when the posse is thick and got tools
Make me feel good 'cause they got steel
No blasters or cap guns son, the real deal
K-A, microphone wrecker E-D
The O, the U, the B, the L to the E
Rocking on, word is born, so abandon ship
My name is Erick Sermon now want some and I'll flip
I'm far from a chump, I'm harcore like Brooklyn
Mess wit me and get your manhood token

EPMD - Business as Usual album



I got it going on, ?(sister muck)?, next to flex
You bet I drop heavy, so girls grab your coatex
I catch fits when I blitz a rhyme grit
And my lip gets to the point so rip some more fly shit
Redman ready to rock ruff rhymes
Renegade rapper, rip when it's rhyme time
Punk push a pin in ?(pilt)? so when I ?(pit)?
Pack pistol posse flow some more pro shit
Fe Fi Fo Fum funky to floor a
Fuck a freak, words before play
Quickly, quiet is kept, never quack
On a Q-Tip, I quote, I throw rhymes like a quarterback
A monster, murder muthafuckas like Manson
A madmen who mutilize men with 9mm
Bullets ?(brobab)? brother back to back I slam
Bread and butter, break beast to Bam Bam
Jump off the Jim before I jack my johnson
I jam like Janet, chew MC's like Swanson
Get a stamp dummy, I'm digging a dungeon
Can you dig that I dig deep to destroy dum dums
Yes, I yam what I yam when I jam, bro
My afro's in the house, yo, yo, yo
Known as I live large, life will be luxury
Ladies in Lamborginies, love is like (lut) to me
Nasty nigga, competition is none
From Newark, New Jersey, knot hairs like Mike Nunn
Shit, rap is still when I'm stroking
Smoke wit shotguns but the sign said no smoking
Cool it kiddo, I control from sea to sea
Cut like Chuckie, plus style it top D
Super mad lover, cool from the new schoo;
Hold your breath, while I walk holding my jewels

EPMD - Business as Usual album

EPMD - Hit Squad Heist

EPMD - Hit Squad Heist song lyrics

Pmd: yo, check this out, man, we're gonna do this, man. we got 2 minutes and
20 seconds to get in and out of there. yo, redman, solo, man don't get in
There and start frontin', man.hit the vault, get the cash, don't shoot
*nobody*. alright?
Erick: tom, set the detonators. [beep beep beep beep]
Pmd: we 'bout to do this shit...
Erick: p, let's do this.....now!

P: freeze! (e: hands in the air!) nobody move!
(mack-10 is packed, so don't break fool)
This is a stick-up, real deal, real steel.
(full cooperation and no one gets killed.
Hey security old man, don't play hero)
'cause a hero is a dead man, and a dead man is a zero.
Yo, hoe, pu tht loot in the money sack.
(you reach for the button, and then you gettin' smacked!)
? check the quotes? {huh? !} stutter, mothafucka? !
(one more dumb move, p, and i'm-a buck her)
Chill, e. listen lady, can't afford to do time.
Ome more slip up and your ass is mine.
I need all keys and codes to security boxes,
Cds (jewels) plus money markets.
(chill before I bulk like the hulk, bruce banner. yo redman) solo
{what? } spray the cameras.
All men, women and children please hit the floor.
(al b.) d-wade (watch the back door)
Time to get scratch, bring around the 560 (time check...) minute and fifty.
{time keeps on slippin-slippin} (come on, p, man, ya bullshittin'.
(hurry up, grab the sack and let's do this.
Pray for the benz and haul ass like carl lewis)
A reminder, a hero's nothin' but a sandwich, gus.
{this is ridiculous} say another word {i'll make ya famous}
{i feel like bustin' loose!} (p's been hit) {ow} a sharpshooter on the roof.

(aw shit. yo redman, keep the money movin'...yo tom j, if I ain't out in 10
Seconds, blow this mothafucker up and everybody, y'hear me? )
[police] {you have 15 seconds to put your weapons down and come out with your
Hands up. 15...14...13...12...11...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...}
Let it go...{1}
{yo, we outta here...}

EPMD - Business as Usual album

EPMD - Gold Digger

EPMD - Gold Digger song lyrics

Oh what the heck, let's get married and have a son named erick
No big deal, no sweat
Hmmm, I was in for a big surprise
And when I saw the judge hammer pass my green eyes
Brainlocked, my whole damn head was malfunctional
Cause I forgot to co-sign a prenuptial, agreement
Now her case is hard like cement
I have no files on all the money she spent
She has a car, nineteen ninety brand new jaguar
Fly kit, with chrome rims that's five star
That she bought, when I was away on tour
Hittin' my bank account, gettin more and more money
She got paid, it wasn't funny
Talkin to myself - oh you big big dummy
Just my luck, that I'm stuck with a marriage
And a baby, who lays in a gold carriage
Now I can't leave, if I do she gets half (not the cash)
Oh yes, the whole damn bash of money
So I chill, and act so sweet
Kiss her feet, can't picture bein in the street
So I give a fake smile, and a fake laugh
Fake everything so I can keep all my cash
Fake talk, like I love you so much
But wishin, she gets hit by a mack truck
Next time, if there's one I'll know
That most women strictly out for the dough
They're called gold diggers

Cause she's a gold digger (3x)

Verse: Parrish Smith

EPMD - Business as Usual album

The p had a close call, quiet as kept I dated this
"flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy girl"
Yeah, and almost got vicked
She had green eyes, thunder thighs, and a def body (so what cha sayin)
Top it off, she drove a black maserati
Chrome kit, with a smile I couldn't resist
I tapped e on the shoulder and said, "yeah I gots to get this"
(p cool, she could be a gold digger)
Not with that smile and that stupid boomin figure
Til one day, she spent the crazy dough
Ten g's on levi's, cold went rambo
But then she smiled, gave me a back massage
Gassed my head up, and said (oh p you're so large)
Like a jerk, I went for the line like a fish
But she was far from dream girl, and more like a death wish
She likes to sit back, lamp, walk on plush rugs
Whip my five-sixty sip moet and bug (so did you flip? )
Tried to but she cut me off
And said, "guess what? " (what) "i'm pregnant" (pregnant? damn)
Yeah and the child is yours
So to fellas, who wanna keep they cash
Or beware of the jack hammer and the helmet that glows
Cause she's a gold digger

Cause she's a gold digger (3x)

Verse three: erick sermon, parrish smith

[e] that's why, men in the 90's must watch themselves
[p] cause ladies of the 80's got hip and went for self
With the new divorce laws, which entitles them half
[e] that means the house goes
[p] the car
[e] you and half your cash
[p] what a price to pay, but if you play you pay
Cause women of the world they got smart today
They flash a smile and profile
[e] a pucker with a strut
[p] try to move in
[e] knock the boots
[p] and got stuck, with alimony payments
[e] time to meet judge wapner
[p] you try to flip and cut, but she smiles 'cause she gotcha
You get a flashback to wedding, when you vowed the vow
Said the two deadly words
[e] I do
[p] but look now, you lost the house
[e] the car
[p] eatin tv dinners in a one bedroom apartment
[e] boy you picked a winner
[p] but what goes around, comes around
[e] that's why she wheels the benz
[p] and you ride greyhound
Oh, just your luck, they on strike
Take off the wedding band, put out the thumb, time to hitch-hike
And the more you walk the pain from your corns get bigger
(now you know)
Not to mess with a gold digger

Cause she's a gold digger (repeat 3x)

[p] yeah epmd's in effect, dj scratch runs flex boy
Hit squad in effect in the house

[e] large!!
Yeah, she get half

EPMD - Business as Usual album

EPMD - Give The People

EPMD - Give The People song lyrics

Chorus: *sung hook from an r&b record*

Got to give the people
Give the people what they want
Ladies and gentlemen
(repeat 2x)

Verse one: erick sermon

When I came out with my first rap jam
I had no idea that the record would slam
It did real good without radio play
Maybe at night but no airplay in the day
I couldn't understand why to be exact
Our music was good and I was far from wack
Then came the answer, commercial was the key
To get airplay and a spot on tv
Like ed lover and doctor dre from yo! mtv raps
A show, mainly for the black
And still we can't ill, cause to them that's wrong
Cause like p.e. said, we're too black and too strong
But hey, what can I say
(brothers and sisters) that's a price a rapper must pay


Verse two: pmd

As airwaves collapse rap shows at a standstill
Some racial circuits the frequencies can't handle
The funk tracks produced by epmd
But it's a fat jam, that will never win a grammy
Unless we sellout and kill the black movement dead
Which means swallow our pride and become flunkies instead
And stop the rap about freedom, thoughts of a black president
And rap about a black crack, the mayor in our residence
Give me a break brothers, it's time to take a stand
And kill that no sir, yes sir, and thank you ma'am
'cause the word is a luxury a black man can't afford
That's why poverty's on the rise and we still ignored
And it's a setback and yet the clock still ticks
And if we let it, rap would be run by politics
I read it somewhere that every man's created equal
But not in this day and age, maybe in the sequel
Which means next time, so observe these rhymes
And take a stand and go for yours cause I'm going for mine
That's why i


Verse three: erick sermon, pmd

Why is that when wrong is done by the black
It's blown out of proportion and immediately attacked
By the press and yes, conflict is caused
By the kids at concerts who bumrush the doors
One child gets hurt, the press gets pesty
But what about the beatles, g, and elvis presley
Same stuff was rough, rap does not cause violence
So (fight the power) and make them understand
But too much power and you might get banned
So if you want airplay
You can't be too black and hey, watch what you say, but ayo

EPMD - Business as Usual album

EPMD - I'm Mad lyrics

EPMD - I'm Mad lyrics

Erick Sermon:
It's the E, and I'm smokin'. Wild like Tone Loc, I'm roastin, bakin' MCs,
The E I'm not jokin' so back up, punk, slack up.
Watch your weak posse, before they get smacked up.
One by ONE, two by TWO, three by THREE, Yo P...
[Parrish: What's Up, E.D.?]
Pass the Uzi, to blow up, any wack MC that show up,
There goes one, blast 'im now.
[E, hold up.]
*Don't make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk might escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and I'm-a catch a bullshit charge,
Plus trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first mistake to bring a duck MC that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. My name is Erick Sermon
[yeah, and I'm Parrish Smith]
I could act foolish, start blastin'. Ha ha ha ha, now who's laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me, next time you see me...
[...holler like ya know me!]
I'm mad...

(Here's a little story, I've gots to tell) {scratching} (I'm mad!) 4x

EPMD - Business as Usual

My life story I tell straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid destined for success, no Old Gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up hard work. No sleep and no shorts.
Brainstormin' with the skills that Pop Duke taught.
To keep swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride the Benz, you ride the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from Punk City, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, yeah my so-called friends,
Who swim in my pool. When it's time, flex the Benz,
Around town, windows down at the South Town, Cool J tape or K-Solo "Spellbound"
With fly girlies dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old Gold, Red Bull, hands on my dick and
I'm just lampin' with my EK shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of course not, brother can't get his props
Like for instance, when I cruise up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my Metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off your dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you looked the other way
That's how I knew you're on my dick kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, your whole head's busted.
Caught in the rap skit, ya couldn't be trusted.
Cuz my sounds pound from here to Okinowi...{kiss} peace and I'm ouuuutie!


Stay tuned to this last episode, when I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the buckwild style that I be usin', in fact black,
It causes {mass confusion}
It's a fallout, when sucker MCs and crowds call out my name,
Oh what a shame I got {fame!}
I'm not a new jack, my rhymes are not wack, and in fact,
I'm like Clint Eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya better run,
Cuz when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax like kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the sounds explode.
Watch the right hook, duck the death blow jack,
I wonder where the E and the P's at...
[Can they do it again?] You bet your ass, black.
[See you in '91] Until things get the bozack... [I'm mad...]

EPMD - Business as Usual

C.W. McCall - Green River lyrics

Green River

Artist(Band):C.W. McCall

(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)

Way out in the canyons of the West, there's a wild river.
The Spanish named it San Buenaventura; but we knew it
as the Green.

It was daylight on the river but we couldn't see the sun
And we couldn't hear our voices through the roar
But we felt the boilin' current and our blood was runnin'
As we headed down the canyon of Lodore
And the gods were runnin' with us
On the day we ran the rapids of the Green

And we died a thousand times in that forty miles of hell
The longest day of life we'd ever seen
But we lived to tell the story and we know the story well
The day we ran the rapids of the Green

We were thirty-two in number when we gathered on the
And we headed off into the great unknown
But we summoned up our courage an' we formed a
mighty team
And we ran that ragin' river all alone
Yeah, the gods were runnin' with us
On the day we ran the rapids of the Green

[Echoing shouts.]

And we hear a thousand echoes on the mighty canyon
As we shouted from the waters far below
And we saw the ancient warnings and we heard the
ghostly cries
Of the men who ran the river long ago
And we prayed that they were with us
On the day we ran the rapids of the Green

[Echoing shouts.]

Now the memories are swirlin' in the eddies of our minds
But the waters of the Green are flowin' clear
And the canyon of Lodore will be a long remembered tale
To be told around the campfires through the years
Yeah, the gods were runnin' with us
On the day we ran the rapids of the Green

And we died a thousand times in that forty miles of hell
The longest day of life we'd ever seen
But we lived to tell the story and we know the story well
The day we ran the rapids of the Green

C.W. McCall - Four Wheel Cowboy lyrics

Four Wheel Cowboy

Artist(Band):C.W. McCall

(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)

Four wheel cowboy
Four wheel cowboy
Four wheel cowboy
Jeepin' down to Santa Fe

Well, Denver town an' I'm outta the chute
Foot in the gas an' a hole in my boot
And I'm outbound, yeah
Gonna see my momma in Santa Fe
I'm over the Hump and I'm on my way
I'm southbound

Three hundred miles to Santa Fe
Got a momma to see or the Devil to pay
Gonna be there by the break of day
And I'm southbound
Three hundred miles to Santa Fe
Got a momma to see or the Devil to pay
Gonna be there by the break of day
And I'm southbound

Now this ol' Jeep needs a coat a' paint
But she makes up for what I ain't
She got feelin'
I only know one thing fer sure
This pony a' mine don't need no spurs
She's squealin'

Four wheel cowboy
Four wheel cowboy
Four wheel cowboy
Jeepin' down to Santa Fe

Well, Texaco's open in Trindad
I didn't stop for gas but I wished I had
'Cause I could use some
They's a bunch a' wild women in Walsenburg
They all make love like a buffalo herd
I wish I knew one

Two hundred miles to Santa Fe
Gonna be there by the break of day
Got a momma to see or the Devil to pay
And I'm southbound
Two hundred miles to Santa Fe
Gonna be there by the break of day
Got a momma to see or the Devil to pay
And I'm southbound

Rattlin' down off a' Raton Pass
Glorieta Hill like a sheet a' glass
And I'm slippin'
Pedalin' down past Pecos town
My go foot up and my stop foot down
I'm slidin'

Four wheel cowboy
Four wheel cowboy
Four wheel cowboy
Jeepin' down to Santa Fe

Now Momma's just like this here ol' Jeep
She's tough and fast and she runs real cheap
And she's drivin'
Well, sun comin' up in New Mexico sky
Got a burr in my saddle and a fire in my eye
An' I'm flyin'

Fifteen miles to Santa Fe
Gonna be there by the break of day
Got a momma to see or the Devil to pay
And I'm southbound
Fifteen miles to Santa Fe
Gonna be there by the break of day
Got a momma to see or the Devil to pay
And I'm southbound

C'mon now, Paint
We almost there
Only one more mile, honey
We comin' Momma
Here we come
Can'tcha see us comin' Momma?
We comin'!
Only one more mile, Momma!
We stuck into four wheel drive, baby!
Here we come!

C.W. McCall - Convoy lyrics


Artist(Band):C.W. McCall

(C.W. McCall, B. Fries, C. Davis)

[On the CB]
Ah, breaker one-nine, this here's the Rubber Duck. You
gotta copy on me, Pig Pen, c'mon? Ah, yeah, 10-4, Pig
Pen, fer shure, fer shure. By golly, it's clean clear to Flag
Town, c'mon. Yeah, that's a big 10-4 there, Pig Pen, yeah,
we definitely got the front door, good buddy. Mercy sakes
alive, looks like we got us a convoy...

Was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June
In a Kenworth pullin' logs
Cab-over Pete with a reefer on
And a Jimmy haulin' hogs
We is headin' for bear on I-one-oh
'Bout a mile outta Shaky Town
I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"And I'm about to put the hammer down."

'Cause we got a little convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a little convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.

[On the CB]
Ah, breaker, Pig Pen, this here's the Duck. And, you
wanna back off them hogs? Yeah, 10-4, 'bout five mile or
so. Ten, roger. Them hogs is gettin' in-tense up here.

By the time we got into Tulsa Town,
We had eighty-five trucks in all.
But they's a roadblock up on the cloverleaf,
And them bears was wall-to-wall.
Yeah, them smokies is thick as bugs on a bumper;
They even had a bear in the air!
I says, "Callin' all trucks, this here's the Duck.
"We about to go a-huntin' bear."

'Cause we got a great big convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a great big convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.

[On the CB]
Ah, you wanna give me a 10-9 on that, Pig Pen? Negatory,
Pig Pen; you're still too close. Yeah, them hogs is startin'
to close up my sinuses. Mercy sakes, you better back off
another ten.

Well, we rolled up Interstate 44
Like a rocket sled on rails.
We tore up all of our swindle sheets,
And left 'em settin' on the scales.
By the time we hit that Chi-town,
Them bears was a-gettin' smart:
They'd brought up some reinforcements
From the Illinois National Guard.
There's armored cars, and tanks, and jeeps,
And rigs of ev'ry size.
Yeah, them chicken coops was full'a bears
And choppers filled the skies.
Well, we shot the line and we went for broke
With a thousand screamin' trucks
An' eleven long-haired Friends a' Jesus
In a chartreuse micra-bus.

[On the CB]
Ah, Rubber Duck to Sodbuster, come over. Yeah, 10-4,
Sodbuster? Lissen, you wanna put that micra-bus in
behind that suicide jockey? Yeah, he's haulin' dynamite,
and he needs all the help he can get.

Well, we laid a strip for the Jersey shore
And prepared to cross the line
I could see the bridge was lined with bears
But I didn't have a dog-goned dime.
I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"We just ain't a-gonna pay no toll."
So we crashed the gate doing ninety-eight
I says "Let them truckers roll, 10-4."

'Cause we got a mighty convoy
Rockin' through the night.
Yeah, we got a mighty convoy,
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our convoy
Ain't nothin' gonna get in our way.
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy
'Cross the U-S-A.

Convoy! Ah, 10-4, Pig Pen, what's your twenty?
Convoy! OMAHA? Well, they oughta know what to do with
them hogs out there fer shure. Well, mercy
Convoy! sakes, good buddy, we gonna back on outta
here, so keep the bugs off your glass and the bears off
Convoy! tail. We'll catch you on the flip-flop. This here's
the Rubber Duck on the side.
Convoy! We gone. 'Bye,'bye.

C.W. McCall - Black Bear Road lyrics

Black Bear Road

Artist(Band):C.W. McCall

(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)

Me an' RJ an' the kids was on a camp-out in the
mountains, and we had us one'a them U-Drive-'Em Army
Jeep cars which we rented from a fella by the name of
Kubozke for thirty bucks a day, buy your gas along the
way, take a rabbit's foot and leave a pint of blood for a

And he 'splained it all to us how we was supposed to get
to Telluride, which is fifty miles away by way of the regular
highway, however, there was a shortcut but unless we had
drove the Black Bear Road before, we'd better be off to
stay, stay in bed and sleep late. (Pay no attention to the
gitar there.)

Well, we took up off'n the highway and we come upon a
sign says "Black Bear Road. You don't have to be crazy
to drive this road, but it helps." I says, "RJ, this must the
shortcut road Kubozke was talkin' about." She didn't pay
no mind, 'cause she was makin' peanut butter
sandwiches for the kids in the back seat throwin' rocks
and drinkin' Kool-Aid and playin' count-the-license-plates.
But they wasn't havin' too much fun a-countin' license
plate or cars, 'cause there weren't no other cars.

We went about a mile-and-a-half in about four hours,
busted off the right front fender, tore a hole in the oil pan on
a rock as big as a hall closet. Went over a bump and spilt
the Kool-Aid and Roy Gene stuck his bolo knife right
through the convertible top and the dog threw up all over
the back seat. Peanut butter don't agree with him, you

So we had to stop and take off the top and air everything
out and clean it up. The dog run off and RJ says she felt
her asthma comin' on. I was sittin' there wonderin' what to
do when the en-tire scenic San Joo-wan U-Drive-'Em
Army Jeep car sank in the mud. At thirteen thousand feet
above sea level.

Well, we shoveled it out and ate our lunch, the dog made
a yellow hole in the snow and Roy Gene got out his
Instamatic and took a snapshot of it. Mary Elizabeth
drawed a picture of the road; it looked like a whole bunch
a' Zs and Ws all strung together. And RJ took one look at
it and said that the only way that Jeep car is goin' down
that road is over her dead body. Then a rock slipped out
from under the wheel and the U-Drive-'Em Army Jeep car
went right over the edge of the cliff. Yahoo-oo-oo-oo!

"Doggone-it, Roy Gene! How many times do I have to
'splain it to you? When I tell you to put a rock under the
wheel, I mean rock! Now look at that, what you have there
is no bigger'n a grapefruit."

C.W. McCall - Audubon lyrics


Artist(Band):C.W. McCall

Well, I was born in a town called Audubon
Southwest Iowa, right where it oughta been
Twenty-three houses, fourteen saloons,
And a feed mill in nineteen-thirty.
Had a neon sign, said "Squealer Feeds"
And the bus came through when they felt the need
And they stopped at a place there in town called The Old
Home Cafe

Now my daddy was a music lovin' man
He stood six-foot-seven, had big ol' hands
He'd lost two fingers in a chainsaw but he could still play
the violin
And Mom played piana, just the keys in the middle
And Dad played a storm on his three-fingered fiddle
'Cause that's all there was to do back there folks, except
ta go downtown and watch haircuts

So I was raised on Dust Bowl tunes, you see
Had a six-tube radio an' no TV
It was so dog-goned hot I had to wet the bed in the
summer just to keep cool.
Yeah, many's a night I'd lay awake
A-waitin' for a distant station break
Just a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' that radio fry.

Well, I listened to Nashville and Tulsa and Dallas
And Oklahoma City gave my ear a callus
And I'll never forget them announcers at three A.M.
They'd come on an' say "Friends, there's many a soul
who needs us
"So send them letters an' cards ta Jesus
"That's J-E-S-U-S friends, in care a' Del Rio, Texas."

But the place I remember, on the edge a' town
Was the place where you really got the hard-core sound
Yeah, a place where the truckers used ta stop on their
way to Dees Moins
There was signs all over them windowsills
Like "If the Devil don't get ya, then Roosevelt will"
And "The bank don't sell no beer, and we don't cash no

Now them truckers never talked about nothin' but haulin'
And the four-letter words was really appallin'
They thought them home-town gals was nothin' but toys
for their amusement.
Rode Chevys and Macks and big ol' stacks
They's always complainin' 'bout their livers an' backs
But they was fast-livin', strung-out, truck-drivin' son of a

Now the gal waitin' tables was really classy
Had a rebuilt motor on a fairly new chassis
And she knew how to handle them truckers; name was
Mavis Davis
Yeah, she'd pour 'em a coffee, then she'd bat her eyes
Then she'd listen to 'em tell 'er some big fat lies
Then she'd ask 'em how the wife and kids was, back
there in Joplin?

Now Mavis had all of her ducks in a row
Weighed ninety-eight pounds; put on quite a show
Remind ya of a couple a' Cub Scouts tryin' ta set up a
Sears, Roebuck pup tent
There's no proposition that she couldn't handle
Next ta her, nothin' could hold a candle
Not a hell of a lot upstairs, but from there on down,

Now the truckers, on the other hand, was really crass
They remind ya of fingernails a-scratchin' on glass
A-stompin' on in, leavin' tracks all over the Montgomery
Ward linoleum
Yeah, they'd pound them counters and kick them stools
They's always pickin' fights with the local fools
But one look at Mavis, and they'd turn into a bunch a'

Well, I'll never forget them days gone by
I's just a kid, 'bout four foot high
But I never forgot that lesson an' pickin' and singin', the
country way
Yeah, them walkin', talkin' truck stop blues
Came back ta life in seventy-two
As "The Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'

Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin' Cafe
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin'
Oh, the Old Home Filler-up An' Keep On A-Truckin' Cafe