Makin a Mess
Oh yeah!
All right
Break It up
T-bone Billy just a singin' the blues
Caught his lady with another man
Lit up a smoke and did some talkin'
With the back of his hand, smack
She started shakin', started losing her mind
But he was kicking back and playing it cool
Signed her walkin' papers
Took the 5: 15 to Kalamazoo
Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball playin' fiddle at the local bar
Dark shades, cool kicks, he's Hollywood Blvd
Slick Daddy and his fat cigar sayin'
"Sign upon the dotted line!"
He shook his head and said
"All I need is that fiddle of mine!"
Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Take your big time, I'll take care of me
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
When trouble came knockin'
Billy kep-a-rockin' like this
Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks (lick it)
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
All right
Break It up
T-bone Billy just a singin' the blues
Caught his lady with another man
Lit up a smoke and did some talkin'
With the back of his hand, smack
She started shakin', started losing her mind
But he was kicking back and playing it cool
Signed her walkin' papers
Took the 5: 15 to Kalamazoo
Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
Now Billy-boy's out havin' a ball playin' fiddle at the local bar
Dark shades, cool kicks, he's Hollywood Blvd
Slick Daddy and his fat cigar sayin'
"Sign upon the dotted line!"
He shook his head and said
"All I need is that fiddle of mine!"
Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Take your big time, I'll take care of me
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
When trouble came knockin'
Billy kep-a-rockin' like this
Sing for your supper
Nobody rides for free
Eat your heart out, I'll send it C.O.D
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
One, two baby what you do
Three, four let me show you the door
You're better off dead than makin' a mess of me
Five, six take your last licks (lick it)
Seven, eight let me give it to you straight
You're better off dead than makin a mess of me
Credits
Writer(s): Sebastian Bierk, Robert Affuso, Rachel Southworth, Scott Mulvehill, David Sabo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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