| Hmm…
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| Mama bought a rooster, she thought it was a duck
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| She brought him to the table with his legs straight up
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| In came the children with a cup and a glass
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| To catch the licker from the yas-yas-yas
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| Babe oh babe, have you ever been to Spain
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| These old voodoo wimmen shakin' their thing
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| They got rings on their fingers, bells on their toes
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| What they got, baby, nobody knows
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| I’m goin' down, Market Street
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| Where the men and wimmen all do meet
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| That’s where the men do the Georgia Rub
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| The wimmen fall in line with a big white tub
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| Me and my gal walkin' down the street
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| She caught the rheumatism in her feet
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| She stooped over to pick some grass
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| And the same thing struck 'r in the yas-yas-yas
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| You catch the train you call «Forty Nine»
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| Carries you down to Caroline
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| You catch the train you call «Forty Eight»
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| Takes you right in to the Golden Gate
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| You shake your shoulders, you shake 'em fast
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| You can’t shake your shoulders shake your yas-yas-yas
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| Drink some rooster soup before goin' to bed
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| Wake up in the mornin' find your own self dead
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| Down on Morgan there’s a good location
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| Right there next to a gasoline station
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| That’s where you get your cars oiled and greased
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| Wimmen cryin' «Honey won’t you come in please»
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| I’m goin' to sing this verse, ain’t gonna sing no mo'
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| Somebody’s knockin' on my do'
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| The people upstairs have gone to bed
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| I better stop that noise 'fore they crash my head |