My old friend, Bob, is a heavy-set boy,
though a lotta folks say that he's fat.
But, at three-fourteen, he kin look real mean,
ain't no one'll argue you that.

Thinkin' back to the days when we both was young, 
they's a Austin cowboy saloon
that comes t'mind in connection with Bob,
an' a contest that happened one June.

An event, y'could say, that jist kinda took place,
it was somethin' that nobody'd plan.
On a Saturday night when ol' Bob was there,
he met another big heavy-set man.

His name was Bull, an' let it be said 
that he matched Bob pound fer pound.
Them two ol' dogies stood toe-to-toe,
an' I heard a low rumblin' sound. 

Them big cowpokes was growlin' like dogs,
tryin' t'make each other turn tail.
Somethin' was comin', ever'body there knew,
but it's nothin' you'd git in the mail.

Now, toes-to-toes their belt buckles touched.
With 'is belly, Bull give Bob a shove.
Bob bumped 'im back an' the fun begun,
it's the stuff that legends're made of.

T'make a long tale short them two cowpokes
backed off like a couple a goats.
But insteada their heads, it was bellies they bumped,
with the bartender holdin' their coats.

They roared an' stomped, bumpin' bellies t'gether, 
'til Bull, he lost his dinner.
Bob bought 'im another, then drinks fer the house,
a true Texas first-class winner.