Cobb I'm a poor boy born in a rubble And some say my manners ain't the best And some of my friends, yeah, they been in real trouble And some say I'm no better than the rest But [2,3: So] tell your mama and your papa Sometimes good guys don't wear white, yeah Every day, baby, I work hard And it's true at night I spend the restless time But those rich kids and all their lazy money Can't hold a candle to mine Good guys, bad guys, which is which The white-collar worker or the digger in the ditch And, who's to say who's a better man When I've always done the best I can A-bad words and dirty minds All those messed-up chicks of the changing times White pills and easy livin' Can't replace the love I'm givin' Ha, I mean to tell you You better tell your mama and your papa somethin' I'll split, I'll find myself another chick, yeah Ah, just for kicks You think those guys in the white collars are better than I am? Then flake off! You don't dig this long hair? Get yourself a crewcut, baby! Yeah! I mean what I say! I don't need nobody, baby [fade]