Big, fat white Caddie
pinked over with Cajun dust,
I cruise the Zydeco Road
in search of Breaux Bridge,
the crawdad capital,
lookin' for wimmens
and les bons temps.

Out dere, dat padre he say,
dey be coon-ass
villes up on rickety-stickety stilts
in dat Bayou Teche,
way up-from dose cottonmouts,
yew know,
an' gator gliders,
an' slick-skin lil ol' girls
built like da Co-Kola bottles
dancin' loose-titty wid mens till
da dawn be done.

You gone hang wid
da coon ass, yew gots to suck
da head of life, ma-boy.

How much you done pay
cash money