|
Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
She don't cook, she don't clean She ain't ever found a knob on the washing machine She don't iron, she don't sew Says, "why waste time foldin' clothes?" She ain't ever gonna get Mama's recipes right But she knows what to do with a Saturday night Hit every hot spot all around town Turn it up, she'll tear it down People rubber neckin', trying to see her dance She got a belly button ring, and some low-rider pants They call me lucky, I know that's right She knows what to do with a Saturday night She makes a mean margarita and a Singapore Sling And if y'all are into Skynard, she sure can sing She's gonna run the table, if you let her break She might pop out of the top of a birthday cake And that little black dress painted on tight She knows what to do with a Saturday night Hit every hot spot all around town Turn it up, she'll tear it down People rubber neckin', trying to see her dance She got a belly button ring, and some low-rider pants They call me lucky, I know that's right She knows what to do with a Saturday night We get home in the early a.m. That's when all the real fun begins Yeah, she holds me close and whispers in my ear Every little sweet thing I wanna hear Then she lights them candles and off go the lights She knows what to do with a Saturday night Yeah, they call me lucky, I know that's right She knows what to do with a Saturday night Saturday night, with a Saturday night Saturday night |