Mister Betty Lyrics by Gourds, The
Gourds, The Lyrics
Mister Betty
Mr. Betty ain’t no friend of mine
Got me feelin’ like a diaper champ
Beat me down lord but I just don’t listen
Wanna suck today, well that’s your business
Next thing I know I blow my top
Shouldn’t keep it all bottled up
Now I’m living out my life on vinyl
A little hiss, skip, fizzle, pop
You want clown but I give you mime
Want it rare I cook it well done
Spend my money so I take my time
Long division we all multiply
Mr. Betty’s just like Typhoid Mary
Her vittles out of Hell’s Kitchen
Dealin’ poison out of her desperation
Go on Mary carry it without a symptom
Gourds, The Chords
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Gourds, The Chords
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