Do you like G-string nudie bars?
Drinkin' Jim Beam straight from the jar,
Peelin' leather off by a star,
And drink and gather with some fools.

They're all party animals with thong honey dears,
Sticks Georgie Washington's on rears.
They act all o'nery in their brain they freak,
They yell and whoop it with their stud born shrieks.
And if you pay, you may satiate your tool,
Order a lap dance at your stool.

Watch the ladies swing on the bar,
See some moon scenes spec-tac-u-lar,
You can get it off oc-u-lar,
Sweat up a lather for this gig.

The cover is minimal in this sort of place,
A button, a bow, a dab of paste.
So mind your manners now and don't be crude,
I like them racy and extremely nude.
And if she don't wear a feather or a fig,
I'd think I'd rather tip her big.

It's a G-string show in a bar,
Very poontang orient are,
Try to get it off with a star,
For a price she'll grant your wish.

The swish ain't worth anything if missin' the shook,
So just peel that cover off that book.
They rule your penile and they make you hot,
They'll take your currency, and all you got.
Then if courtin' for a wife is what you wish,
You should go somewhere else to fish.

And all your money bid it adieu,
Co-jo-nes all beat, fried and blue,
You pay to see not pay to do.

Your legal tender can go far,
Down at the G-string nudie bar.