Don't Mess With My Weekend - Shorty Long

Don’t you mess with my weekend

Don’t you mess with my weekend, hey

So rain rain, go away

Come back again, on a weak day

And tell that thunder not to holler so loud

Tell that lightning stop roarin' a crowd

'Cause I done, done shine my shoes

And I done, done combed my hair

You’re crazy if you think I ain’t goin' nowhere

'Cause I got to be with my baby, oh yeah

I don’t mean maybe, I got a pocket full of money

I’m just itchin' to spend

I got a brand new set of teeth that I reserve just to grin

Don’t mess with my weekend

So don’t you try to mess with my weekend

So tell the birds they might as well sing

Tell the bears to go to head on in me

Tell the stars, come on out and shine

Tell those clouds I’m sick of their cryin'

'Cause I got to be with my baby, you know

I don’t mean maybe, I got a $ 100 suit I’m just itchin' to wear

I feel like knockin' out that Fred Astaire

Don’t mess with my weekend

So don’t you try to mess with my weekend

Don’t you mess with my weekend

Don’t you mess with my weekend

'Cause you know, all week long I’ve been at work

And every sunday morning you can find me at church

Every saturday night I’m at the function at the junction

And every monday morning, the time clock I punch

So Weatherman, don’t you mess with my weekend

Please Mr. Weatherman, don’t mess with my weekend

Don’t mess with my weekend

Don’t mess with my weekend

Don’t mess with my weekend