He wears a zoot suit with a reet pleat, Drives a '36 Cord with a rumble seat. He's a jitterbug; scare the letters off a highway sign. He drinks beer and eats bennies And chases it down with Thunderbird wine. Carries brass knuckles and a .44, Runs a loan shark business and a mary jane store. He's a jitterbug; keeps movin', don't sit still; If the law don't get him, some gun-totin' irate husband will. One day in September he stepped out of his Cord, Into the street to face a bullet-spittin' Ford. Now he's “Jitterbug,” just a name in the news. He finally paid the price; He finally paid his dues.