I went down on blake street
To get a glass of gin
Before i drank my gin
The fbi walked in
How unlucky
How unlucky can a poor girl be
Seem like everywhere i go
Fbi follering me
They start pouring out da bad liquor
It were running down the street
Instead of running down my throat
It be running underneath my feet
Oh unlucky how unlucky
How unlucky can a poor girl be
Seem like every where i go
Po-leece is follering me
Intrumental with these thrown in
Whoa oh leave me alone
Oh one more drink of gin will do it baby
I don't mind going to jail
But i didn't taste my gin
It seem like to me every time i want to drink
Back to jail again whoaaaaoh
How unlucky
How unluck can a poor girl be
Seem like every where i go
The fbi is follering me
Ohhhh get in there baby
(harp solos here)
Ohhhh make me feel it make me feel it
Pour another drink of that good liquor
Ahhhhh that's what i'm talking about
Look like to me the jail
Gonna be my home
When the police see me
Back to jail i go
How unlucky
How unlucky can a poor girl be
I say seem like every where i go
You know the fbi is follering me
The old folks told me drinking
Was killing poor me
But i told the old folks i cain't he'p it
Whiskey won't let me be
How unlucky
How unlucky can a poor girl be
I got to keep on drinking my gin
But the fbi is follering me
Whoa yeah whoa yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Writer(s): Jack Dupree, Willie Mae Thornton, Mae Thornton
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