Death of Do Dirty

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Death of Do Dirty

A Rounder’s Song

O, you can’t find a buddy

Any old time

’Ll help you out

When you ain’t got a dime.

He was a friend o’ mine.

They called him Do Dirty

Cause he was black

An’ had cut his gal

An’ shot a man in de back.

Ma friend o’ mine.

But when I was hungry,

Had nothin’ to eat,

He bought me corn bread

An’ a stew o’ meat.

Good friend o’ mine.

An’ when de cops got me

An’ put me in jail

If Dirty had de money,

He’d go ma bail.

O, friend o’ mine.

That night he got kilt

I was standin’ in de street.

Somebody comes by

An’ says yo’ boy is gettin’ beat.

Ma friend o’ mine.

But when I got there

An’ seen de ambulance

A guy was sayin’

He ain’t got a chance.

Best friend o’ mine.

An’ de ones that kilt him⁠—

Damn their souls⁠—

I’m gonna fill ’em up full o’

Bullet holes.

Ma friend o’ mine.