| She don’t cook, she don’t clean
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| She ain’t never found the knob on the washin' machine
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| She don’t iron, she don’t sew
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| Says why waste time, foldin' clothes
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| She ain’t never gonna get Mama’s recipe right
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| But she knows what to do with a Saturday night
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| Hit every hot spot all around town
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| Turn it on up, she’ll tear it on down
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| People rubber neckin', tryin' to see her dance
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| She got a belly button ring and some low-rider pants
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| They call me lucky, I know that’s right
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| She knows what to do with a Saturday night
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| She makes a mean margarita and a Singapore Sling
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| And if ya’ll are into Skynard, she sure can sing
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| She’s gonna run the table, if you let her break
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| She might pop out of the top of a birthday cake
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| And that little black dress painted on tight
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| She knows what to do with a Saturday night
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| Hit every hot spot all around town
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| Turn it on up, she’ll tear it on down
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| People rubber neckin', tryin' to see her dance
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| She got a belly button ring and some low-rider pants
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| They call me lucky, I know that’s right
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| She knows what to do with a Saturday night
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| We get home in the early a.m.
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| That’s when all the real fun begins
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| Yeah, she holds me close and whispers in my ear
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| Every little sweet thing I want to hear
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| Then she lights them candles and out go the lights
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| She knows what to do with a Saturday night
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| Yeah, they call me lucky, I know that’s right
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| She knows what to do with a Saturday night
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| Saturday night
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| With a Saturday night
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| Saturday night |