Lyrics

I'm just frontin' But, whatever happened to Jim Duggan I remember his 2 x 4 and intense [?] lovin' I heard he got fat, eatin' too many breakfast muffins Now down in Birmingham, he runs a bar with his cousin Called Hooo!s Hacksaw's is nuthin' special Regular clientele, beer, shots, pretzels He walks sorta slow, bad knees and bad toes His career ended abruptly, when Randy Savage crushed his nose And since then, he hasn't even seen a ring And when he sneezes, his nasal cavity really stings He doesn't miss wrestling, just the freedom it afforded He never liked interviews or really, being recorded Hacksaw's is nuthin' special Regular clientele, Shane and Rick, Ethel Mostly spoke of the past Jim would occasionally chime in with, "yeah" Leans on a cooler, in a stair, like he's not there Jim Duggan's hacksaw was right beneath the peach schnapps 'Cause for protection there was a .45 Colt six shot 'Cause one day, the Fallen Angels, known for bustin' up bars Drove down Birmingham and even destroyed Jim's car And Jim's cousin found Duggan beneath the pizza oven Beaten to a bloody pulp, broken stools, ripped coat And since then Jim's vowed to get revenge So he keeps a loaded Colt between two old pretzel bins