Knock Yourself Out

(albüm: East Bay Grease - 1970)

You got your fax fur on, you're walking out the door
You said you won't be around to see me no more
You'll be preaching that you put the hurt on me
But on the real side, we shall see

Talk your trash, mama, yes it's alright with me
And my game uptight and you should have known it from in front
I'm on top of the situation, babe
So knock yourself out

You've been places, girl, where you don't belong
I've been there, too, I'm not saying that it's wrong
But you tell your friends that you got away clean
But on the real side, you were just a rhythm machine

Talk your trash, mama, yes it's alright with me
And my game uptight and you should have known it from in front
I'm on top of the situation, babe
So knock yourself out

I got the urge early last week
To call you up just to hear you speak
But I really didn't want to waste my time
Because on the real side, you're not worth a dime

Talk your trash, mama, yes it's alright with me
And my game uptight and you should have known it from in front
I'm on top of the situation, babe
So knock yourself out