You better stop knocking on my door at night
You better keep your mouth shut good and tight
Cause my man's an undertaker
And he's got a coffin just your size.
Well, you better not brag 'bout the times we had
Cause that'll only make Mr. Rise real mad,
My man's an undertaker,
He's got a coffin just your size.
I'd do your old clothes out on the dump
Now you can go and sit on the stump
I'd put another cushion on your easy chair
Cause to where you used to sit,
Mr Rise is sitting there
He promised me a cab and all you did was scheme
The only time I rode was in my dreams
Now my man's an undertaker,
He's got a fleet of limousins
I moved his business over here
Just to have him kinda near
Darling, the cellar where it used to be bed
Now Mr Rise keeps his coffins there
My man'll come and get you in his big black house
Take you out of the house with your feet going first
My man's an undertaker,
He's got a coffin just your size.
Writer(s): Leroy Kirkland, Mamie Thomas
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