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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Barbra Streisand
Barbra Streisand
Performer
Roger Kellaway
Roger Kellaway
Orchestra
Kenny Ascher
Kenny Ascher
Orchestra
Tom Scott
Tom Scott
Orchestra
James Pankow
James Pankow
Performer
Ian Freebaim-Smith
Ian Freebaim-Smith
Orchestra
Pat Williams
Pat Williams
Orchestra
Terry Paul
Terry Paul
Band
Jerry McGee
Jerry McGee
Band
Stephen Bruton
Stephen Bruton
Band
Sammy Creason
Sammy Creason
Band
Donnie Fritts
Donnie Fritts
Band
Mike Urley
Mike Urley
Band
Booker T. Jones
Booker T. Jones
Band
Dean Hagen
Dean Hagen
Band
Art Munson
Art Munson
Band
Charles Owens
Charles Owens
Band
Bobby Shew
Bobby Shew
Band
Jack Redmond
Jack Redmond
Band
Clydie King
Clydie King
Band
Venetta Fields
Venetta Fields
Band
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Rupert Holmes
Rupert Holmes
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Barbra Streisand
Barbra Streisand
Producer
Phil Ramone
Phil Ramone
Producer
Jim Boyer
Jim Boyer
Assistant Engineer
Bernie Grundman
Bernie Grundman
Mastering Engineer
Tom Vicari
Tom Vicari
Recording Engineer
Dan Wallin
Dan Wallin
Recording Engineer
Aaron Baron
Aaron Baron
Assistant Engineer
Andrew Macdonald
Andrew Macdonald
Engineer

Lyrics

Will you welcome, please, The Oreo? The Black, Black Widow is sittin' in the middle of the web, it's the fly she seeks You may be her lover, but you never will recover 'Cause she ain't had a bite for weeks You think you're the same 'cause you got the same name But the widow has a mobile home Remember what I told you She's got eight arms to hold ya And she's never gonna let you roam She'll tuck you into bed Truck on your head Then she'll wrap you as a midnight snack So if you see a spider Don't you saddle up beside her Why you think the widow's wearing black? Jack (aw!) The Queen Bee, baby Pray that you may be left on your own, uh-huh Nothin' she'll give you Gonna out live you Ah-ah-ah, but the Queen Bee's never gonna be alone, uh-huh Long before Atlantis there has been a praying mantis And you know why he's on his knees He may have a religion But he's just a sittin' pigeon if a woman even starts to tease He won't even quibble if she has a little nibble on his neck What a way to go! Now you've gone and torn it You've been messin' with a hornet She's a blue-blooded wasp, you know And just as you do it, she'll inject you with a fluid That you ain't even got but none You're meat on the plate Not even first-rate She's gonna feed you to her seventh son Just like a Queen bee baby Pray that you may be left on your own Nothin' she'll give you Gonna outlive you Ha-ha-ha, but the Queen Bee's never gonna be alone, uh-huh, uh-huh So in conclusion it's an optical illusion If you think that we're the weaker race Men got the muscle, but the ladies got the hustle And the truth is staring in your face The mother bear stalks and the queen of the hawks is the one who brings home the bread The lion that is regale and the bald-headed eagle need a woman just to keep them fed But come the evening we're like Adam and his Eve inside the garden hear the serpents sound It's so frustrating when you're really intimating and there ain't a lovin' man around Whoever wrote the story (when you're really intimating and there ain't a lovin' man around) Throw out the glory (when you're really intimating and there ain't a lovin' man around) Who'd be them in our swing? Write me a sequel, give me an equal And I'll give that man (yes, I will) I said I'm gonna give that lovin' man I said I'm gonna give that lovin' man (alright) I said I'm gonna give him that lovin' sting Zap!
Writer(s): Rupert Holmes Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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