[Intro]

Mr. Engineer, faders up

[Verse 1]

What kinda jail cell is this?

I'm sitting here with a drunken Indian

Grinning like a mule eating garlic

And he keeps tryna get his hands on my majosha

Lemme tell ya, I've been perjured

I told the officer who I was

And it didn't seem to make any difference

[Chorus]

He just said "Don't drop the soap

Don't smoke no dope

Better get a lawyer, son

Better get a real good one

Ya better get yourself a suit and tie

Ya better gеt your hair cut way up high"

[Verse 2]

That's what the officer told me

Shit, I didn't do nothing

I was just driving my car

What's thе matter, Jim?

Jesus

Lemme outta here, ossifer

Lemme see if the judge... judge?

Ah, there goes the Indian again

Get your hands off my fucking majosha

You know who I am, buddy, officer?

This Indian says he needs some sexual healing

I said... if I got anything to say

I'll say it with a lead, yeah

[Chorus]

But I ain't gonna drop the soap, nope

I ain't gonna smoke no dope

I'm gonna get a lawyer, son

I'm gonna get me a good one

[Outro]

You wanna sit... this cell, sitting...

Lemme outta here, will ya, goddamn it!

Ossifer?

Ossifer?

Get me away from this Indian, anyway

At least for the weekend

Ugh, dammit

I'm talking to you!

What kinda jail cell is this?

It's a Texas jail cell