I love my man, I'm a liar if I say I don't But I'll quit my man, I'm a liar if I say I wont.

I've been your slave Ever since I've been your babe But before I be your dog I'll see you in your grave.

I ain't good looking And my hair ain't curls But my mother she give me something It's going to carry me through this world.

Lord I love my man, tell the world I do I love my man, tell the world I do But when he mistreats me Makes me feel so blue.

Some men like me talkin' happy Some calls it snappy Some call me honey Others think I got money Some tell me baby you're built for speed Now if you put that all together Makes me everything a good man needs. :Song co-authored with Arthur Herzog Jr.

Them that's got shall get Them that's not shall lose So the Bible said and it still is news Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own.

Yes, the strong gets more While the weak ones fade Empty pockets don't ever make the grade Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own.

Money, you've got lots of friends Crowding round the door When you're gone, spending ends They don't come no more Rich relations give Crust of bread and such You can help yourself But don't take too much. :Holiday's autobiography; co-authored with William Dufty|William Dufty

No two people on earth are alike, and it's got to be that way in music or it isn't music.

I can’t stand to sing the same song the same way two nights in succession, let alone two years or ten years. If you can, then it ain’t music, it’s close-order drill or exercise or yodeling or something, not music.