Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fats Waller
Piano
Gene Sedric
Clarinet
Cedric Wallace
Bass
Slick Jones
Drums
John Hamilton
Trumpet
John Smith
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ada Benson
Lyrics
Fred Fisher
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Barry Feldman
Reissue Producer
Chick Crumpacker
Producer
Lyrics
Who's that walkin' round here?
Mercy, sounds like baby patter
Baby elephant patter, that's what I calls it
Say, up in Harlem at a table for two
There were four of us: me, your big feet, and you
From your ankle up, I'll say you sure are sweet
From there down there's just too much feet
Yes, your feet's too big
Don't want you 'cause you feet's too big
Can't use you 'cause you feet's too big
I really hate you 'cause your feet's too big
Where'd you get 'em?
Your girl she likes you, she thinks you're nice
Got what it takes to be in paradise
She said likes your face, she likes your array
Man, oh man, them things are too big
Oh, your feet's too big
Don't want you 'cause you feet's too big
Mad at you 'cause your feet's too big
I hate you 'cause your feet's too big
My Goodness! Gun the gunboats!
Ship, ship, ship!
Oh your pedal extremities are colossal
To me, you look just like a fossil
You got me walkin', talkin' and squawkin'
'Cause your feet's too big, yeah
Come on and walk that thing
Oh, I've never heard of such walkin', mercy
Your, your pedal extremities really are obnoxious
One never knows, do one?
Written by: Ada Benson, Fred Fisher