Pistol Packin' Papa

I'm a pistol packin' papa and when I walk down the streets
 You can hear those mamas shouting don't turn your gun on me
 Now girls I'm just a good guy and I'm going to have my fun
 And if you don't want to smell my smoke don't monkey with my gun.
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 Like a hobo when he's hungry like a drunkman when he's full
 I'm a pistol packin' papa and I know how to shoot the bull
 The whole of men don't hold me and they sure leave me be
 I'm a pistol packin' papa and I ramble where I please.
 Oh well, I have that funny feeling that luring rambles call
 I swing aboard of some freight train and I shoot my pistol low
 Sometimes one shot will do near sometimes it takes four or five
 And sometimes I shoot all around before I'm satisfied.
 When you hear my pistol puffin' you better hide yourself someplace
 'Cause I ain't made for stoppin' and I come for a shootin' race
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 My sweetheart understands me she says I'm her big shot
 I'm her pistol packin' daddy and I know I got to drop.
 You can hear my Newsport roadster you can take my Hartford hat
 But you can never take from me my silver mounted gut
 I'm a pistol packin' papa and I'm going to have my fun
 Just follow me and you will hear the barking of my gun...