I was 15 going on 20 when i met up with the soul man he was quite a lover of the cards and of the dice and he had w****s and he had ladies he made love and he made babies he could tell some d*** good stories and give some good advise
you gotta learn how ta pick em son learn how ta lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull s*** and lies
He sat down and poured some whisky and he mixed it up with water heres a picture of my daughter he would say and he would sigh and he would drink and laugh a little as he picked up that old fiddle that same ol riddle i never did knwo why
you gotta learn how ta pick em son learn how ta lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull s*** and lies
now the years ive seen him bury his daughter and me marry i was sure he raised her right an taught her how ta f*** when i asked her what he told her shed said he never skulled her he would always hold her but he never told her much well her told her men were plain and simple told her love was like a pimple once you squeez the juices out it just goes away he taught her how ta hold on tighter and her taught her not to let men fight her and then there was this poem he taught her on his dyin days
you got to learn how ta suck em daughter learn how ta f*** em daughter learn how ta take there money and learn how ta cry you got to try not to hold em too much try not to skulled em too much try not to feed em too much bull s*** and lies
you gotta learn how ta pick em son learn how ta lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull s*** and lies
you gotta learn how ta pick em son learn how ta lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull s*** and lies
He sat down and poured some whisky and he mixed it up with water heres a picture of my daughter he would say and he would sigh and he would drink and laugh a little as he picked up that old fiddle that same ol riddle i never did knwo why
you gotta learn how ta pick em son learn how ta lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull s*** and lies
now the years ive seen him bury his daughter and me marry i was sure he raised her right an taught her how ta f*** when i asked her what he told her shed said he never skulled her he would always hold her but he never told her much well her told her men were plain and simple told her love was like a pimple once you squeez the juices out it just goes away he taught her how ta hold on tighter and her taught her not to let men fight her and then there was this poem he taught her on his dyin days
you got to learn how ta suck em daughter learn how ta f*** em daughter learn how ta take there money and learn how ta cry you got to try not to hold em too much try not to skulled em too much try not to feed em too much bull s*** and lies
you gotta learn how ta pick em son learn how ta lick em son learn how to stick em son between the thighs and you got to try not to beat em too much try not to teach em too much try not to feed em to much bull s*** and lies