I'm a pistol packing papa, and when I walk down the street
 You can hear those mamas shoutin': Don't turn your gun on me!
 Now girls, I'm just a good guy, and I'm goin' to have my fun
 And if you don't wanna smell my smoke, don't monkey with my gun! 
 Like a hobo when he's hungry; like a drunk man when he's full
 I'm a pistol packing papa, I know how to shoot the bull
 The hold-up men all know me, and they sure leave me be 
 I'm a pistol packin' papa, and I ramble where I please 
 When I have that funny feeling that lorryin' ramblers call
 I swing aboard some freight train, and I shoot my pistol off
 Sometimes one shot will do me, sometimes takes four or five
 Sometimes I shoot all around, before I'm satisfied 
 When you hear my pistol poppin', you better hide yourself some place
 'Cause I ain't made it for stoppin', and I come from a shootin' race
 My sweatheart understands me, she says I am her big shot
 I'm her pistol packin' daddy, and I know I've got the drop 
 You can hear my new sport roadster, you can take my hard-boil head
 But you can't never take from me my silver-mounted gad 
 I'm a pistol packin papa, I'm goin' to have my fun
 Just fallow me and you will hear the bargain of my gun