Yo-mama-ha Rider

The Yo-mama-ha Rider

I saw him pull in where we stopped to rest,
A dude on some rice-burner ride
He had on leather chaps, a black biker vest
And tattoos all over his hide.

He wanted to ride with us today
Our road captain nodded yes
He fell in line as we pulled away
Then I saw what it said on his vest.

The back of his vest read “Big Dog Bikes”
But that wasn’t a Big Dog I saw
Big Dog may have made the ride that he likes
But he was up on an old Yamaha

That this guy was going to wear thin,
At our first stop we quickly would learn
Every time we would stop and pull in
This dude had bullshit to burn.

Of his biker exploits we heard all the tales
He was better, tougher, faster than all
His bikes were more powerful than ours without fail
I didn’t know they stacked it that tall.

No respect for other people had he
All bluster and bad attitude
No inner strengths that I could see
To many, he seemed just plain rude.

I guess he thought this made him a biker
He was caught up, playing his role
But tat’s and two wheels don’t make a biker
Just another poseur lacking the soul

At one time he might have been what he said
Before beginning to play this role
He let way too much myth go straight to his head
Now he’s just a Yo-mama-ha riding asshole

Copyright 2007 Bill “uglicoyote” Davis