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Fats Lyrics

Check out Fats, he's a real cool cat
He's got a black and white tux with lots of class
He says, "I love that jazz, I love that razz-ma-tazz, I love to swing."
"I just go crazy when you give me room to do my thing." That's Fats
Well, check out Fats, he's a real cool cat
He's got bright white spats and a sharp dark trilby hat
He's got a chick that's slick, and I like her looks
And I like the way her lipstick, it matches the carnation on his tux
I love his jazz, I love his style; it makes me feel so nice
Oh Fats, won't you play for ma a while? That's fats
Oh well, Sigmund Freud, he gets very annoyed
He was checking out Fats, and Waller just don't like that cat

He said, "I don't like his looks, I don't like his fashion."
I love his jazz, I love his style; it makes me feel so nice
Oh Fats, won't you play for me a while? Now, that's Fats
He's such a real cool cat, that's Fats; nobody plays that jazz, not like Fats
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