High On The Hog

My father spent fifteen years just to teach me how to hold a spade
My father of fifty years thought that I had it made
High on the hog

My mother taught me how to sew, she thought I would never know
My mother taught me how to read but my father taught me how to bleed
High on the hog

My girl taught me how to drink
My girl taught me how to smoke
My girl of eighteen years taught me everything I'd need to know
High on the hog

My dog is the ace of scraps
My dog got some righteous snacks
My dog taught me how to run 'cause running from a gun ain't for everyone
High on the hog

Disco inferno motherfuckers
Got the high-cal, low-cal
Gimme that harmonica solo