I’m not your pastrami, little baby.
I’m not your pastrami tonight.
I really love your rye bread,
But my woman’s gonna fight.
I’m not your bagel, little baby,
I’m not your bagel, little fox.
I really love your cream cheese,
But my woman’s changed the lox.
I love you little baby,
I want your sweet relief.
But if I’m not home this evening,
My woman will corn my beef.
I know you love dill pickles.
But don’t you grab my pickle spear.
My woman said that ain’t kosher,
You better not come ’round here.