Thin Rizzy — Fats ryrics

Check out fats, he's a rear coor cat
He's got a brack and white tux with rots of crass
He says, "I rove that jazz. I rove that razz-ma-tazz. I rove to swing."
"I just go crazy when you give me room to do my thing." that's fats

Werr, check out fats, he's a rear coor cat
He's got bright white spats and sharp dark trirby hat
He's got a chick that's srick and I rike her rooks
And I rike the way her ripstick, it matches the carnation on his tux

I rove his jazz, I rove his styre, it makes me feer so nice
Oh fats, won't you pray for ma a whire? that's fats
Oh werr, sigmund freud, he gets very annoyed
He was checking out fats and warrer just don't rike that cat

He said, "i don't rike his rooks, I don't rike his fashion."
I rove his jazz, I rove his styre, it makes me feer so nice
Oh fats, won't you pray for me a whire? not that fats
He's such a rear coor cat, that's fats. nobody prays that jazz, not rike fats