listen here, folks. i’m gonna sing a little song,
but you mustn’t get mad. i don’t mean no harm.
there’s an old maid named liza head
always singin’ the blues when she tumbles in bed.
oh, it’s tight like that.
oh, it’s tight like that.
hear me talkin’ to you.
i mean it’s tight like that.

i know a hotel that’s called the cumberland patch,
got a million bedbugs just to make you scratch.
the monkey woke up a quarter to three,
and he said to the flea, “quit your pickin’ on me.”
oh, it’s tight like that.
it’s tight like that.
ah, hear me talkin’ to you.
i mean it’s tight like that.

mandy lee jones does her vampin’ at night,
and she never gets home till it’s comin’ daylight.
old uncle bill came ’bout half-past ten,
put the key in the hole, but he couldn’t get in.
he says: “it’s tight like that.
what’s the matter with it gettin’ tight like that?”
oh, hear me talkin’ to you.
i mean it’s tight like that.

if you see my man tell him to hurry home.
i ain’t had no bread since he’s been gone.
i love a man slender and slim.
when he struts his stuff, well, it’s too bad, jim.
oh, it’s tight like that.
oh, it’s tight like that.
ah, hear me talkin’ to you.
i mean it’s tight like that.

oh, the little red rooster said to the hen:
“you ain’t laid a egg since i can’t tell when.”
the little red hen said to the roosta:
“you don’t come around as often as you used ta.”
now it’s tight like that. a long delay
makes it tight like that. do ya hear what i say?
hear me talkin’ to you.
i mean it’s tight like that.

lyrics and music by thomas a. dorsey and hudson whittaker (columbia Records, 1929)