Six Foot Five

One two, one two three four

Yeah

Cold march morning, Northern California, back in 1973
He grew up quick and told that he was nothing 'till the day he turned 16
Broke outta town, though he left a trail of violence a mile wide
No one knew little Jay Woods would end up Six Foot Five

Five days a week he's working late shift at the C.B.S. Lumberyard
On the weekend he plays a little Rock And Roll on his 100 dollar bass guitar
How do you survive on those nickels and dimes his mother once did say
Put down your guitar and get a good job 'cause Rock and Roll doesn't pay, no it don't

Skinhead Roots Reggae Rock 'n' Roll on parole
Skinhead Roots Reggae Rock & Roll on parole

He said, I don't wanna be poor no more
No, I don't wanna be poor no more
No, I don't wanna be poor no more
No, I don't wanna be poor no fuckin' more

Big Jay's got no problem unless you wanna start one, I suggest that you don't stay
If you wanna make trouble he's quick to bust your bubble and send you on your way
Bustin our jaws his friends are outlaws from their boots to their mutton chops
Most hated crew, you know that they are true to the punx in the bastard band

Skinhead Roots Reggae Rock 'n' Roll on parole
Skinhead Roots Reggae Rock 'n' Roll on parole

He said, I don't wanna be poor no more
No, I don't wanna be poor no more
No, I don't wanna be poor no more
No, I don't wanna be poor no fuckin' more

Oh yeah!
Wooh!