Shortenin' Bread by Death at a Funeral movie
Put on the skillet, slip on the lid,

Mama's gonna make a little shortnin' bread.

That ain't all she's gonna do,

Mama's gonna make a little coffee, too.

Chorus

Mama's little baby loves shortnin', shortnin',

Mama's little baby loves shortnin' bread,

Mama's little baby loves shortnin', shortnin',

Mama's little baby loves shortnin' bread.

Three little children, lyin' in bed

Two was sick and the other 'most dead

Sent for the doctor and the doctor said,

"Feed those children on shortnin' bread."

Chorus

When those children, sick in bed,

Heard that talk about shortnin' bread,

They popped up well to dance and sing,

Skipped around like they had wings.

Chorus

Slip to the kitchen, slip off the lid,

Filled my pockets full of shortnin' bread;

Grabbed the skillet, grabbed the lid,

Bugged that lady makin' shortnin' bread.

Chorus

Caught me with the skillet, caught me with the lid,

Caught me with the lady makin' shortnin' bread;

Paid six dollars for the skillet, six dollars for the lid,

I helped that lady makin' shortnin' bread.

Chorus