George Gershwin
I Hates Yo’ Struttin’ Style
Frien' wid you low-life? Hell no!
I hates yo' struttin' style
Yes sir, and yo' god damn silly smile
An' yo' ten cent di'mons an' yo' fi'cent butts
Oh, I hates yo' guts
Somebody's got to carve you up to set these people free
An' de writin' on the wall says it's a goin' to be me
Some night when you is full of gin an'don't know I's about
I'm go?n' to take you by de tail an' turn you inside out
Frien wid you, low-life! hell, no!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! I's figgerin to break yo' bones
Yes sir, one by one
An' then I's goin' to carve you up an' hang you in de sun
I'll feed yo' meat to buzzards an' give'em bеlly aches
An' take yo' bones to Kittiwah to pizеn rattlesnakes
Frien's wid you, low-life?
I fears I mus' decline!
I sooner cuts mah own throat 'fore I calls you a frien' of mine!