Three Hundred Pounds Of Hongry

Three hundred pounds of hongry
 Down to the house every Sunday
 Boil them taters and butter them buns
 Licking that grease right off them thumbs
 Three hundred pounds, as tall as he's round
 And every pound of that body's so fine
 I can hardly believe that it's all mine
 Hey, how that three hundred pounds amaze me
 When he gets down in the gravy
 I'm loving that body, what a soulful dude
 When he gets down on that barbecue
 Three hundred pounds, as tall as he's round
 And every pound of that body's so fine
 I can hardly believe that it's all mine, all mine
 Everybody asks me why
 Do you love a man that's twice your size
 Well, don't you know it's the bigger the better
 That three hundred pounds sho' 'nuf got it all together
 Look at him, Lord, getting those grits
 Lovin' him more, the bigger he gets
 Now let yourself go, you big old thing
 Don't you know I don't care if you weighs a ton
 Long as I can butter them buns, your buns, my buns