I miss him when he's gone But when he's here, I'm done The bastard just ain't no good he keeps bedding' our slave Seduced by the juices of a bistres child, and you know She used to braid my hair everyday But now her child looks like mine, same blood He's bored with my touch He visits her too much Confusing, since I'm the pretty one, up in this here house With my hair laid out on the pillows that I stuffed With the money we could lose If, she went back to Africa If, she went back to Africa If, she went back to Africa If I'm the mistress, not she I'm a master to some degree If she faded away, well I wouldn't care Her daughter is Becky with the good hair See what she did out in, them fields The jealousy is real