Mamas Don't let your Babies grow up to be Grizzlies

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MAMAs DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE GRIZZLIES

Grizzlies ain't into love cuz it makes they're hardons go cold.
They'd rather force you on their schlong than give you diamonds or gold.
Remove those belt buckles and old faded levis,
And a nightmare begins each new day.
If you don't understand him, an' he don't die young,
He'll prob'ly just be locked away.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be grizzlies.
Don't let 'em spike drinks or chase them old sluts.
Or you'll see 'em hire doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be grizzlies.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone that loves them.

Grizzlies like smokey old pool rooms and hungover mornings,
Little warm dollies and children and girls of the night.
Them that do know him won't like him and them that don't,
Sometimes won't know where (or how or why) to take him.
He ain't just wrong, he's different but his pride won't let him,
Do things to make you think he's right.