Mr. Big Pig

Mr. Big Pig, he thought he was tough,
He learned how to swear, you know that he learned how to curse.
He got himself a gun and he learned how to shoot,
He even got a gas mask and put it on his snoot.
With his gun and his club hanging by his side
You know that he thought he was the meanest -huh- pig alive.
With his gloves on his hands and his boots on his feet
He thought he was the coolest pig on the streets.
Hey, you don't have to be a man to beat a man,
You don't have to be a man to beat a man.
Aw come on, play it for me now.
Hey! You know what I'm talkin' about,
I'm talkin' about Mr. Pig, the man.
Mr. Big Pig, he likes to be safe,
You know that he always begs for tear-gas and a little bit of mace.
He loves his leather gloves, his bullet-proof vest,
His great Big Pig badge pinned to his chest.
With all his equipment, he feels pretty big,
But it takes more than clothes to make more than a pig —
Shotguns, squad cars, walky-talkies, too,
Mr. Big Pig, you just look like a fool.
Hey, you don't have to be a man to beat a man.
C'mon, you don't have to be a man to beat a man.
Ah, come on, let's rock on now.