I went down to 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 following me

The start pouring out the bad liquor
It [bad word] down the street
Instead [bad word] down my throat
It [bad word] underneath my feet

How unlucky
How unlucky can a poor girl be
Seem like everywhere I go
Police is following me
 [bad word] break)
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
Whoa

How unlucky
How unlucky can a poor girl be
Seem like everywhere I go
FBI following me

Oh, get in there baby
(Harp solo)
Oh, make me feel it
Make me feel it 
Pour another drink of that good liquor
Ah, 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 everywhere I go
You know the FBI is following me

The old folks told me drinking
Was killing poor me
But I told the old folks I cain’t help 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 following me
Whoa yeah, whoa yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah