What's It? - Jimmie Rodgers

I’ve got a gal

Oh, what a gal

She weights two hundred pounds

But she is just my kind of gal

The best one I have found

Can she pet?

Oh, how she pets

Why, each night in the park

I take my cornfed mama out

And neck where it is dark

Oh, she takes her little what’s it where she goes

Her little funny what’s it always shows

But when she struts down the street

Het little what’s it can’t be beat

Cause she’s not too fat

She’s not too thin

But where she sticks out

She should cave in

She takes her little what’s it where she goes

And her what’s it never grows

But when she struts right down the street

Her little what’s it can’t be beat

But she’s my gal

My dog-faced gal from Nashville, Tennessee

Oh she has feet

And oh, what feet, she wears a number nine

Her feet are big and she is strong

This dog-faced gal of mine

And when we go

We always go to places she likes best

I walk a while

Then she sits down

To let her what’s it rest