(NB*)
Though those bitchy bourgeois (x2)
Call us ladies of da night (x2)
We ain't daily treated as such
My word, my word
We ain't daily treated as such (1)
' Cause, even wit' our coolin' heels, (x2) (2)
Pacin' up and down along da streets (x2)
Tends to exhaust our pins
My word, my word
Dat tends to exhaust our pins
Though we make love our whole life (x2)
And marry twenty times a day (x2)
Da wed's never for our mugs (3)
My word, my word
Da wed's never for our mugs
We're despised by public (x2)
And pushed by cops (x2)
And threatened of pox
My word, my word
And threatened of pox
Son of a yokel and a dead loss (x2)
Don't laugh about da poor Venus (x2)
Da poor old crate (4)
My word, my word
Da poor old crate
'Twas a close call, deary (x2)
Dat hoe be yer mum (x2)
Dat hoe ye're laughin' about
My word, my word
Dat hoe ye're laughin' about