Bout ten years old, hide and seek I found me in the closet Ready or not I stumbled on And opened up that box of Yearbooks, letters, black and whites A hundred, maybe more Next thing I know my brothers and me Got em scattered on the floor Yeah There was one of her, flippin the bird Sittin on a Harley And a few with some hairy hippie dude Turns out his name was Charlie Her hair, her clothes, her drinkin smokin Had us boys confused Ill never forget the day us nosey kids got introduced To Mama, fore she was Mama In a string bikini, in Tijuana Wont admit she smoked marijuana But I saw Mama, fore she was Mama We put that box right where it was And never said a word But growin up got hard just tryin Not to picture her In anything but aprons, dresses Minivans and church Oh and Daddy would have whooped our butts For diggin up that dirt See Clay Walker LiveGet tickets as low as 27You might also likeOn Mama, fore she was Mama In a string bikini, in Tijuana She wont admit she smoked marijuana But I saw Mama, fore she was Mama We laugh and hang it over her head Right above her halo Her face turns red when we bring up That tiedyed Winnebago She runs and hides and still denies That hip high rose tattoo She burned that box of forgetmenots When she found out we knew About Mama, fore she was Mama In a string bikini, in Tijuana Wont admit she smoked marijuana But that was Mama, fore she was Mama And theres that one down in the Bahamas But that was Mama, fore she was Mama
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