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Pistol Packin' Papa Lyrics

I'm a pistol packing papa,
and when I walk down the street
You can hear those mamas shoutin':
Don't turn your gun on me!
Now girls, I'm just a good guy,
and I'm goin' to have my fun
And if you don't wanna smell my smoke,
don't monkey with my gun!
Like a hobo when he's hungry;
like a drunk man when he's full
I'm a pistol packing papa,
I know how to shoot the bull
The hold-up men all know me,
and they sure leave me be
I'm a pistol packin' papa,
and I ramble where I please
When I have that funny feeling
that lorryin' ramblers call
I swing aboard some freight train,
and I shoot my pistol off
Sometimes one shot will do me,
sometimes takes four or five
Sometimes I shoot all around,
before I'm satisfied
When you hear my pistol poppin',
you better hide yourself some place
'Cause I ain't made it for stoppin',
and I come from a shootin' race
My sweatheart understands me,
she says I am her big shot
I'm her pistol packin' daddy,
and I know I've got the drop
You can hear my new sport roadster,
you can take my hard-boil head
But you can't never take from me
my silver-mounted gad
I'm a pistol packin papa,
I'm goin' to have my fun
Just fallow me and you will hear
the bargain of my gun
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