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
