Southern Fried Lovin'

by Bob Malone   My baby’s got me by the appetiteHer good Dixie cookin’s made a faithful man of meAnd though her red beans and rice taste twice as nice every nightWhen I need a midnight snack I say: “baby, put that fryin’ pan back”Your cookin’s fine but now’s the tine for something better than that CHORUSGimme some of that southern fried lovin’Extra greasy and hotter than a Creole barbecueGimme some of that southern fried lovin’Feed me till it hurts and then for dessertI’ll have another piece of you I’ll make a play for her ettoufeéAnd I can’t wait to see them black-eyed peas starin’ up at meAnd though her jambalaya sure is fine, it don’t fill me all the way, I say:“All them spices can’t compete honey, with your kind of heat”I’m starved for your affection ‘cause baby, you’re my meat CHORUS © 1995 Born Too Late Music