I'm a poor boy born in the rubble And some say my manners ain't the best And some of my friends, yeah, they've been in real trouble And some say I'm no better than the rest But 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 a restless time But those rich kids and all that lazy money Can't hold a candle to mine So tell your mama and your papa Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Good guys bad guys which is which The white collar worker or the digger in the ditch Hey, and who's to say who's the better man When I've always done the best I can
How bad was his dirty mind All those messed up chicks of the changin' times White pills and easy livin' Can't replace the love I've given So tell your mama and your papa Sometimes good guys don't wear white
{spoken} Ha, I mean to tell ya You better tell your mama and your papa somethin' I'll split off by myself with another chick yeah, Ah just a kick You think those guys in the white collars are better than I am baby Then flake off You don't dig this long hair, get yourself a crew-cut baby Yeah I mean what I said