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Clay Walker Fall Fore She Was Mama �Bout ten years old, hide and seek I found me in the closet Ready or not I stumbled on And opened up that box of Yearbooks, letters, black and whites A hundred, maybe more Next thing I know my brothers and me Got �em scattered on the floor (Yeah) There was one of her, flippin� the bird Sittin� on a Harley And a few with some hairy hippie dude Turns out his name was Charlie Her hair, her clothes, her drinkin� smokin� Had us boys confused I�ll never forget the day us nosey kids got introduced To Mama, �fore she was Mama In a string bikini, in Tijuana Won�t admit she smoked marijuana But I saw Mama, �fore she was Mama We put that box right where it was And never said a word But growin� up got hard just tryin� Not to picture her In anything but aprons, dresses Mini-vans and church Oh and Daddy would have whooped our butts For diggin� up that dirt On Mama, �fore she was Mama In a string bikini, in Tijuana She won�t admit she smoked marijuana But I saw Mama, �fore she was Mama We laugh and hang it over her head Right above her halo Her face turns red when we bring up That tie-dyed Winnebago She runs and hides and still denies That hip high rose tattoo She burned that box of forget-me-nots When she found out we knew About Mama, �fore she was Mama In a string bikini, in Tijuana Won�t admit she smoked marijuana But that was Mama, �fore she was Mama And there�s that one down in the Bahamas But that was Mama, �fore she was Mama |
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