I can't get rich
I can't make a living
But I sure do something for the neighborhood women
I wake up every morning with a knocking at my door
You can't keep 'em waiting when they're yelling for more

Chorus:
"Back! Back!" I hollered to my hound,
"You're supposed to keep 'em from coming around"
I used to think they was after me
Oh, but they're just after my recipe, for that Good Brown Gravy
Good Brown Gravy
yeah that Good Brown Gravy
Mmm, Good Brown Gravy

Well, you can eat it from a biscuit
you can sop it from a pan
You can lick it off your fingers when it's running down your hand
I could get a notion I'd start a big promotion
I'd put it in a bottle
call it "Biscuit Lotion"

[Chorus]

Well, my gramma told my momma 'bout the power that it had
Good Brown Gravy is the way she got my dad
They tried to get me in the Army
get me in the Navy
Just to get the secret of my Good Brown Gravy?