One, two, three
She was a hot-shit singer in a low-rent dive
Lookin' like she wanna eat a man alive
Legs get to kickin' in the worn-out shoe
Kemba's got the cabbage moth blues
Laundry in Los Angeles and old St. Lou
Left Carolina with a load or two
Down in Kentucky, got them hanging on the line
Mama was dressed so fine
Tell Kentucky how your turnip greens grow
Tell California everything you know
Tell New York, tell Tennessee
Come to Carolina, your drinks are on me
♪
Too much chicken in the hen house now
Hens stay in, roosters get out
See that red chicken sittin' on an egg
Fox got the rooster and the rooster got dead
Got me a rolling pot of beans
Had to keep the cabbage moth off the greens
Just put hot pepper right on the leaf
You'd better wash 'em off good before you serve 'em to me
Tell Kentucky how your turnip greens grow
Tell California everything you know
Tell New York, tell Tennessee
Come to Carolina, your drinks are on me
It was a whiskey and a whiskey and a whiskey
And a whiskey and a whiskey and a whiskey and a whiskey
Was the music did play
But I hope my mama didn't float away
I heard that the Cumberland was out of the banks
Tell Kentucky how your turnip greens grow
Tell California everything you know
Tell New York, tell Tennessee
Come to Carolina, your drinks are on me
Tell Kentucky how your turnip greens grow
Tell California everything you know
Tell New York, tell Tennessee
Come to Carolina, your drinks are on me
♪
That was plainly far enough for the food
Right? Plainly far enough, there were no big boots
We have that spirit