Hit me...
They sprung me out of Quentin,
I'm back on the mob's payroll.
They can buy my body,
Sure they can't buy my soul.
I'm working out of Stockton,
I'm weighing in at two-o one.
But there's a man in the front row,
Sent down from the mob with a gun.
For `Kid` Gloves, I'm back on the street.
`Kid` Gloves, the master to beat.
`Kid` Gloves, I'll do anything but dive.
Well, they bought me out of Quentin,
They've gone and placed their bets.
I've got to throw the fight,
Just to save my neck.
Saying `yes` to the set-up,
Made me feel so cheap.
But the street felt good,
Only got myself to beat.
Oh....
`Kid` Gloves, I'm fast on my feet,
`Kid` Gloves, the master to beat.
`Kid` Gloves, I'll do anything but cry.
`Kid` Gloves, I'm back in the ring.