Annette Morgan

GOOD OL’ BOY

Ol’ Bob, he’s one a them good ol’ boys,
One a them with class.
He don’t spit on floors
Or pick the Fruits of his Loom outta his
Well, you know how it is
When they get up the crack a yore ass.

Ol’ Bob, he’s one a them good ol’ boys,
One a them with class.
He don’t pick his nose in public
Or pick it while driving and fool ya
Into thinking he’s turning left
While he flicks it out the winda glass.

Ol’ Bob, he’s one a them good ol’ boys,
One a the ones with class.
He always tips his hat and calls me “ma’am”
But I know he secretly hangs on the backs
Of pickup trucks and lies about the bass.