Оригинален текст
She don't cook, she don't clean
She ain't never found the kn*b on the washin' machine
She don't iron, she don't sew
Says why waste time, foldin' clothes
She ain't never gonna get Mama's recipe right
But she knows what to do with a Saturday night
Chorus
Hit every hot spot all around town
Turn it on up, she'll tear it on down
People rubber neckin', tryin' to see her dance
She got a belly button ring and some low-rider pants
They call me lucky, I know that's right
She knows what to do with a Saturday night
She makes a mean margarita and a Singapore Sling
And if ya'll are into Skynard, she sure can sing
She's gonna run the table, if you let her break
She might pop out of the top of a birthday cake
And that little black dress painted on tight
She knows what to do with a Saturday night
Chorus
Hit every hot spot all around town
Turn it on up, she'll tear it on down
People rubber neckin', tryin' to see her dance
She got a belly button ring and some low-rider pants
They call me lucky, I know that's right
She knows what to do with a Saturday night
We get home in the early a.m.
That's when all the real fun begins
Yeah, she holds me close and whispers in my ear
Every little sweet thing I want to hear
Then she lights them candles and out go the lights
She knows what to do with a Saturday night
Yeah, they call me lucky, I know that's right
She knows what to do with a Saturday night
Saturday night
With a Saturday night
