Mama don't whup Little Buford
Mama don?t pound on his head
Mama don?t whup Little Buford
I think you should shoot him instead
Buford brought home his report card
Buford was proud as could be
As last, he passed to the third grade
And Buford is just twenty-three
Mama don?t whup little Buford
Mama you?ll just be a wreck
Buford?s been studying judo
And he?ll break your scrawny old neck
At five Buford was smoking
And drinking hard liquor at six
At seven he learned about women
At eight Buford got his first fix
Mama don?t whup Little Buford
You don?t know how he feels
Buford is good to you Mama
He brings you whatever he steals
Buford is gone, what a pity
At last we have found happiness
We bought a new home in the city
And we won?t give him our address
Mama don?t whup Little Buford
Mama, you'll only knock out your breath
Just teach him to be a musician
And Buford will soon starve to death