"Walking Down Canal Street," which I learned in the mid-1950s, was a poem, sort of an early rap, and it went...

Walking down Canal Street,
Looking in a store.
Goddamn sonofabitch!
Couldn't find a whore.

Finally I found one.
She was tall and thin.
Goddamn sonofabitch!
Couldn't get it in.

Finally I got it in,
Wiggled it all about.
Goddamn sonofabitch!
Couldn't get it out.

Finally I got it out.
It was red and sore.
The moral of this story is:
Never f**k a whore.