Lyrics:

Blues-based tune a la John Lee Hooker What a shame, what a shame, what a shame The shape my hair is in It's way too humid, today, my head, it ain't no friend If I was seen out, I'd have me arrested Gimme, gimme, gimme my sweet hairdresser Hairdresser, hairdresser She's hip to the fastest bob, She give a good lather-job She don't stand no messin' around Gimme, gimme, gimme my hairdresser this town Hairdresser, hairdresser Conk it up, conk me baby I likes a wax, I likes a straight I don't like the kind of hair you love to hate I can dig it dread, I can dig it buzzed I can dig a 'do' that does the fuzz God, my hair it looks molested Gimme, gimme, gimme my sweet hairdresser Hairdresser, hairdresser Hairdresser, hairdresser Yo, yo, Milano