Bo Diddley done had a farm,
On that farm he had some women,
Women here, women there,
Women, women, women everywhere.

But one little girl lived on a hill,
She rustled and tustled like Buffalo Bill,
One day she decided she´d go for a ride,
With a pistol and a sword by her side.

She rolled right up to my front door,
Knocked an´ knocked ´til her fist got sore,
When she turned and walked away,
All I could hear my baby say:

Hey Bo Diddley, Oh Bo Diddley,
Hey Bo Diddley, Oh Bo Diddley.

Saw my baby run across the field,