The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
Boy, be quite, follow me and tip toe
Don't wanna make too much noise
Sneaking in your window
So pull down the shades
'Cause my neighbors are kind of nosy
Comfy, cosy, now off with the clothes-why
Can I get a witness? Betta fitness
Baby, we can do it, take your time, do it right
Lick my belly button, whisper sweet nothings
In my ear to get my hormones in gear
Now, mamma's little baby loves toast and jam
Melts in your mouth but not in your hand
Black pudd'n
Separates the boys from the men
You can knock all day Jehovah but you can't get in
Maybe you can get a scoop, if you're really all of that
And you can leave your fake fingernails in my back
Now, I may not be a lady but I'm surely all woman
So check it, the proof is in the pudd'n
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick, girl?
I wanna get a taste of your pudd'n
Must be Jell-O, 'cause pudd'n don't jiggle like that
Yeah ain't that a fact, pull out your spoon
And let's begin the mixing, always in the bedroom
Never in the kitchen you can get busy
With your head beneath the blanket
Flip it, spank it, gettin' buck naked 'cause women in the 90's
Want more from a brother than a part-time lover
Who's wack undercover, so brother, do your duty
When it comes to the bedroom, don't let him eat the pudd'n
If he ain't got the head room
So, dip, D I P, dive if you wanna be a diver
Sport a helmet with a light like an old gold miner
No need to taste test the puddn's always fresh
So, brothers, wear a bib if you're gonna make a mess
Can I get my spoon in, no way
Now I eats more pudd'n than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [unverified] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a
So, Holy Molly
([Unverified])
Can I get my spoon in, no way
Now I eats more pudd'n than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [unverified] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a
So, Holy Molly
([Unverified])
Can I get my spoon in, no way
Now I eats more pudd'n than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [unverified] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a
So, Holy Molly
([Unverified])
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick, girl?
I wanna get a taste of your pudd'n
Proof is in the pudd'n, so come get a taste
I know that you love it from the smile on your face
Up and down like a slinky, let's get kinky
The cream in the middle of a Twinkie
'Cause I likes my men cot diesel
And if you're unleaded then nigga, just forget it
You can't rub my back, or kiss my neck either
With you sniffy, sneezy, coughy, achy, stuffy head fever
Undercover lover, in between the sheets
As the bed springs creak, while I rips up the beat
Brothers love the pudd'n like Lucy loves Ricky
Joanie loves Chachi, or Micky loves Minne
But I have getting hickies on my neck in the summer
'Cause wearing a turtle neck is a bummer
I heats up the mike 'til your blood pressure rises
It ain't the kind of pudd'n Bill Cosby advertises
Pull out your spoon, and let us begin
But if you front on the pudd'd
You might not get your spoon in
Don't wanna make too much noise
Sneaking in your window
So pull down the shades
'Cause my neighbors are kind of nosy
Comfy, cosy, now off with the clothes-why
Can I get a witness? Betta fitness
Baby, we can do it, take your time, do it right
Lick my belly button, whisper sweet nothings
In my ear to get my hormones in gear
Now, mamma's little baby loves toast and jam
Melts in your mouth but not in your hand
Black pudd'n
Separates the boys from the men
You can knock all day Jehovah but you can't get in
Maybe you can get a scoop, if you're really all of that
And you can leave your fake fingernails in my back
Now, I may not be a lady but I'm surely all woman
So check it, the proof is in the pudd'n
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick, girl?
I wanna get a taste of your pudd'n
Must be Jell-O, 'cause pudd'n don't jiggle like that
Yeah ain't that a fact, pull out your spoon
And let's begin the mixing, always in the bedroom
Never in the kitchen you can get busy
With your head beneath the blanket
Flip it, spank it, gettin' buck naked 'cause women in the 90's
Want more from a brother than a part-time lover
Who's wack undercover, so brother, do your duty
When it comes to the bedroom, don't let him eat the pudd'n
If he ain't got the head room
So, dip, D I P, dive if you wanna be a diver
Sport a helmet with a light like an old gold miner
No need to taste test the puddn's always fresh
So, brothers, wear a bib if you're gonna make a mess
Can I get my spoon in, no way
Now I eats more pudd'n than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [unverified] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a
So, Holy Molly
([Unverified])
Can I get my spoon in, no way
Now I eats more pudd'n than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [unverified] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a
So, Holy Molly
([Unverified])
Can I get my spoon in, no way
Now I eats more pudd'n than old folks play bingo
Parker Lewis can't lose in Santa Domingo
What about Atlanta? [unverified] than Santa
Saturday night, I'm liver than Rose-ana-ana Dan-a
So, Holy Molly
([Unverified])
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick? What?
Can I get a lick? Can I get a lick, girl?
I wanna get a taste of your pudd'n
Proof is in the pudd'n, so come get a taste
I know that you love it from the smile on your face
Up and down like a slinky, let's get kinky
The cream in the middle of a Twinkie
'Cause I likes my men cot diesel
And if you're unleaded then nigga, just forget it
You can't rub my back, or kiss my neck either
With you sniffy, sneezy, coughy, achy, stuffy head fever
Undercover lover, in between the sheets
As the bed springs creak, while I rips up the beat
Brothers love the pudd'n like Lucy loves Ricky
Joanie loves Chachi, or Micky loves Minne
But I have getting hickies on my neck in the summer
'Cause wearing a turtle neck is a bummer
I heats up the mike 'til your blood pressure rises
It ain't the kind of pudd'n Bill Cosby advertises
Pull out your spoon, and let us begin
But if you front on the pudd'd
You might not get your spoon in
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Blak Pudd'n Lyrics as written by Aaron King
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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