Now, you mistreat me, a-baby, drove me from your door A-but the Good Book say, mama, "You got to reap just what you sow" Well, if you don't want me, a-mama, you don't have to run no stall I can find more good gals than a passenger train can haul I ain't goin' by your color, woman, or neither by your good hair A-but the treatment that you give me, baby, call me from anywhere A-you may be brownskin, and your hair long as my arm If you mistreat me, woman, you, sure God, lose your home And now the short-haired woman, when they carry your troubles on She make you think through the daytime, trouble you all night long She make you think you're right, when you know good and well you're wrong And I'm goin' to the gypsy, have my good gal's fortune told She's got a pocket full of greenback, a mouth stuck full of gold And it's, wonder what's the reason, a-baby, I can't rest at night For the gal that I'm crazy about have took my appetite