I went down to Blake StreetTo get a glass of ginBefore I drank my ginThe FBI walked inHow unluckyHow unlucky can a poor girl beSeem like everywhere I goFBI following meThe start pouring out the bad liquorIt were running down the streetInstead of running down my throatIt be running underneath my feetHow unluckyHow unlucky can a poor girl beSeem like everywhere I goPolice is following me(Instrumental break)Whoa, oh leave me aloneOh, one more drink of gin will do it, baby I don’t mind going to jailBut I didn’t taste my ginIt seem like to me every time I want to drinkBack to jail againWhoaHow unluckyHow unlucky can a poor girl beSeem like everywhere I goFBI following meOh, get in there baby(Harp solo)Oh, make me feel itMake me feel it Pour another drink of that good liquorAh, that’s what I’m talking aboutLook like to me the jailGonna be my homeWhen the police see me,Back to jail I goHow unluckyHow unlucky can a poor girl beI say seem like everywhere I goYou know the FBI is following meThe old folks told me drinkingWas killing poor meBut I told the old folks I cain’t help itWhiskey won’t let me beHow unluckyHow unlucky can a poor girl beI got to keep on drinking my ginBut the FBI is following meWhoa yeah, whoa yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Lyrics by Big Mama Thornton