| Jimmy Stokes came from Alabam'
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| With just the shirt on his back
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| But with a big determination
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| To make it big and never come back
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| He said goodbye to his girl Sue
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| And left the farm to see what he could do
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| Came east to the big, hard city
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| Saw the sights, lord have pity
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| Every move he made seemed to be right
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| Made some good friends, he became tight
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| Always played it cool, he was never a bore
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| Kept his eyes open always knowin' the score
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| He waited for his break and took his prize
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| And as you would assume, he was on the rise
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| And with a little help from his friends
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| Jimmy became a business head
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| Now Jimmy Stokes he was selling cokes
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| And all the pretty ladies in town
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| He ran his business and was discreet
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| Paid every cop on his beat
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| He rides a big, custom-tone, purple Cadillac
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| With his name written on the back
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| If you can’t get it and you don’t know
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| All you have to do is ask Jimmy Stokes
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| Pretty soon power went to his head
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| He started to treat his friends bad
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| One night while a big bash at his pad
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| A knock on the door, the F.B.I. |
| said
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| «Come on Jimmy let’s go back to Alabama
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| With a ball and chain doin' time in the hole
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| You are on the chain
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| Come on Jimmy»
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| You all through, baby
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| All right now
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| Oh yeah, Jimmy
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| You done made a mistake, baby
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| All right
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| You gonna do a long time down that Alabama jail, I tell you
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| Down in that sweat hole
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| Thinkin' about all those pretty womens, and you up in the city in them suedes
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| Boy, you really gonna miss it, I can tell you |