I'm gonna my son to grow up pretty as the grass is green And whip-smart as the English wide And I'm gonna tell my son to keep his in his mattress And his on any hand between his thighs And I'm gonna my son up in a tower Till I write my life story on the back of his big brown eyes
When they do the double dutch, that's dancing When they do the double dutch, them dancing When they do the dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's dancing
I'm gonna tell my son to join a so that death is cheap And games are just another way of And I'm gonna my son to be a prophet of mistakes Because for every truth are half a million lies And I'm gonna lock my son up in a he learns to let his hair down far enough to climb outside
When they do the double dutch, that's them When they do the double dutch, that's dancing they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the dutch, that's them dancing
When they do the double dutch, that's dancing When they do the double dutch, them dancing When they do the dutch, that's them dancing When they do the dutch, that's them dancing
When do the double dutch, that's them dancing they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them When do the double dutch, that's them dancing
When they do the double dutch, that's dancing When do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them
they do the double dutch, that's them dancing