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My Sweet Hunk O' Trash (With Louis Armstrong)

You don't act up too much

Ain't got that glamour touch

You're trifling lazy

Ain't worth a cigarette ashLook out here mamma

Look out here

You carry me too fast

Watch it, babyYou're just my good for nothin'

My sweet hunk o' trash

(My, my how you sound)You're very short on looks

(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Dumb, when it comes to books

(Look out, baby, watch it, honey)

And you stay full of corn just like succotash

(What you want me to do in my idle moments)You're just a good for nothin'

But my sweet hunk o' trash

(Let me get a word in there honey, you running your mouth)You said I've worried you for years

I'm just a barfly moochin' beers

While you sweat over a hot stove slinging hash

(Work my fingers right down to the elbows)Yes I may be good for nothin'

But I'm still your sweet hunk o' trash

(First to admit it baby)You said I spread my love all around

And with the chicks all over town

But, how can I when you keep me broke?

So I can't spend no cashYes I may be good for nothin'

But I'm still your sweet hunk o' trashListen here pops

You know you lie about your youth

(I don't lie baby)

I'm just careless with the truth, that's all

(How careless can you be)Oh, no

With all your chicks

You try to make a flash

(Now baby, it ain't like that, no)But you're still my good for nothin'

My sweet hunk o' trashNow when you stay out very late

It sure makes me mad to wait

(How come, baby)

'Cause, you come home too tired

To raise just one eyelash

(Watch it baby, watch it)You're just good for nothin'

But you're my sweet hunk o' trash

(Yes indeed)

Songwriters

FLOURNOY E MILLER, JAMES P. JOHNSONPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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