To the cadence of Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver:
These ‘cados are sized like watermelons – they fill days of needs.
But like the watermelons you don’t want to swallow any seeds.
You don’t want a melon ‘cado growing up inside,
Making you one of them guys who’s good fat double wide.
I knew a man who grew a ‘cado in his tummy for some years –
He couldn’t give birth naturally, so they pulled it out to his tears.
Named the little thing Jessamine, wanted to raise it as his own –
Doctors wouldn’t have none of that, got the National Guard on the phone.
The guard came down to lay the law, saying “it ain’t natur-al!”
Don’t want no army of ‘cado daddies in the shadows, on the prowl.
Took lil ‘cado Jessamine to Oak Ridge National Lab,
Told the egg heads to monitor her vitals and with hypodermic needless stab.
Jessamine the ‘cado grew up tough and mean,
Chewed tobacco, fucked biker chicks, and chugged gasoline.
Still she had a soft spot for her dear old dad.
Cause having a freak melon ‘cado baby was the kind of heart he had.
So when you’re down just think of the ‘cado Jessamine.
Work hard, love each other and try to keep your nose clean.
It could always be worse – you could be riding a hearse to your final resting place.
That is what could be for you but for God’s loving grace.