Doca

Hold on, dude
Hold on, dude, it's on the waist
Hold on, dude
Hold on, dude, it's cockroach

Doca is just another guy with a messed up head
Bought a pool hall
With four in the front by three
In the back that he raised in the bank
And made dudes swap clogs
For patent leather shoes
Turned the hall
Into a heavy dance hall
Watched by the paddy wagon men
Into a heavy dance hall
Watched by the paddy wagon men

But Doca doesn't care, he's into it
And he's only into the sound, you know?
But Doca doesn't care, he's into it
And he's only into the sound, you know?

But Doca, who never says a curse word
Gets mad and loses his mind
If someone shows up to complain
The neighborhood doesn't complain about the samba
But there's an old man in pajamas
Who always shows up to talk
What's up, Doca?
Stop it, boy
It's already three in the morning

But Doca doesn't care, he's into it
And calls the old man to the sound, you know?
But Doca doesn't care, he's into it
And calls the old man to the sound, you know?

But Doca doesn't care, he's into it
And he's only into the sound, you know?
But Doca doesn't care, he's into it
And he's only into the sound, you know?