Blind Willie Mc Tell – Southern can is mine

Now looka here mama let me tell you this,
If you want to get crooked I’m gonna give you my fist,
You might read from Revelation back to Genese,
But if you get crooked, your southern can belongs to me.
Ain’t no need you bringin no jive to me,
Cause your southern can is mine.

Might go uptown have me arrested and have me put in jail,
Some hotshot got money come and go my bail.
Soon as I get out, hit the ground,
Your southern can worth two dollar, half a pound.
Ain’t no need you bringing no stuff to me
Because your southern can is mine.

You might take it from the south you might carry it up north,
But understand you can’t rule or either be my boss.
Take it from the east, hide it in the west,
When I get it mama, your can won’t see no rest.
Ain’t no need you bringing no stuff to me,
Because your southern can is mine,
In the morning,
Your southern can belongs to me,
I’m not dreamin,
Your southern can belongs to me.

Ah ashes to ashes mama, and sin to sin,
Every time I hit you you’ll think I’ve got a dozen hand.
Give you a punch through that barb-wire fence,
Every time I hit you you’ll say I’ve got no sense.
Ain’t no need you bringing no stuff to me,
Because your southern can is mine,
Every bit of it,
Southern can belongs to me.

Get me a brick out of my backyard,
Give you the devil if you get kinda hard.
Ain’t no need you bringing no jive here honey,
Cause your southern can is mine,
You hear me cryin,
Your southern can belongs to me.
Spank it a little bit, boy.

Ah, your southern can is mine.

Now if I catch ya mama down in the heart of town,
Take me a brand-new brick and tear your can on down.
Ain’t no need you bringin no stuff to me,
Because your southern can belongs to me,
I’m talkin to ya,
Your southern can belongs to me.

You may be deathbed sick and mama and graveyard bound,
I’ll make your can moan like a hound.
Ain’t no need you bringin no stuff to me,
Because your southern can is mine,
You hear me talkin,
Southern can belongs to me.

(Oh spank it like that.
The way Ruthie Mae likes it.)

Cause your southern can is mine.

Sit there unsteady with your eyes all red.
What I said get your grandma dead.
Ain’t no need you bringin no jive to me,
Cause your southern can is mine.

You got to stop your barkin and raising the deuce,
I’ll grab you mama and turn every way but loose.
Ain’t no need you bringin no jive here honey,
Cause your southern can belongs to me,
Every bit of it,
Southern can belongs to me.

(Aw, woop it boy, that’s the way the people like that thing.)

Ain’t no need you bringing no jive here honey,
Cause your southern can is mine,
You hear me talkin,
Your southern can belongs to me.

You might twiddle like a tadpole,
Let it jump like a frog,
Bur every time I hit it
You’ll holler God and that’s all,
Ain’t no need you bringing no jive here honey,
Cause your southern can is mine,
You hear me talkin,
Southern can belongs to me.

(Now play it a little bit, just woop it.)
Aw shocks. Play that thing boy.)

Southern can belongs to me.