| I don’t know what makes it rain
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| Can’t tell what makes it snow
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| While I don’t claim to know it all
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| But there’s some things I do know
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| There’s one thing in particular
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| That I never have to guess
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| I ask myself this question
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| And I had to tell me, yeah
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| Oh, do my sweet, sweet daddy love me?
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| Yes, indeed he do
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| Is he true as stars above me?
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| What kind of fool is you?
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| He don’t stay from home all night
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| More than six times a week
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| Oh, I know that I’m his Sheba
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| And I know that he’s my Sheik
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| And when I ask him where he’s been
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| He grabs a rocking chair
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| Then he knocks me down
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| And says, «It's just a little love lick, dear»
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| But if some woman looks at him
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| I’ll tear her half in two
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| Oh, do my sweet, sweet daddy love me?
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| Yes, indeed he do
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| Of course, my sweet daddy loves me
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| Yes, indeed he do
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| If he beats me or mistreats me
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| What is that to you?
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| I don’t have to do no work
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| Except to wash his clothes
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| And darn his socks and press his pants
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| And scrub the kitchen floor
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| I wouldn’t take a million
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| For my sweet, sweet daddy Jim
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| And I wouldn’t give a quarter
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| For another man like him
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| Gee, ain’t it great to have a man
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| That’s crazy over you
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| Oh, do my sweet, sweet daddy love me?
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| Yes, indeed he do |