D|Own|Town

Da ooman gwein by agony,
Something pien’a real bad
She neva go 2 the dacta,
She swear nah dacta can act

I see the ooman in tenshan
And me go trying fi help
Ax where pien sitwashan
And she nuh ansa me vexed

She seh me pien is in me back,
Me go nuh furtha dan that
Is it in the bottom? Is it in the top?
She sehz is no place where, can be reached by sun…
Is it in her heels or, right behind her knees?
She sehz yuh nuh ask me, yuh will neva see.

Me nieba suffa tragedy
Somewhere’s pien gwein make’r mad
She’s been trying all injecshan,
But the bugger pien on top

And me see her tribulashan
And me offer rub’er up,
But I cause big time perplexshan
When me axa where it hurt

She seh me pien is in me back,
Me gwein nuh furtha dan that
Is it in the bottom? Is it in the top?
She sehz yuh nuh rub no loshan, it mite burn me stuff…
Is it in her heels or, right behind her knees?
She shout me gwein cunk you, yuh will neva see.

And me wanda,
Is it in the bottom?
Is it in the top?
Is it in the middle?
Right behind di front?
Whatta botherashan,
When me tryin’ fi axe
Ooman from the nations,
Live in secrecy,
She shouts she gwein cunk me,
Fi me neva see…

Missa Blake’s inna serious sitwashan
Him so close to chop a neck and shout dee-dee
Twas a trouble fi him to know his sweet Candy
Has a crush on paña magga called Martín

Missa Blake sehz him don’t like yellow belly’s
Him grandchildren might not speak prappa patwa
All’a dem might be bushy from the damn macca
Not a piece o’ dem might be calypsonian

Di blacka di berry di sweeta di juice
Swagging paña’s disgrace, all’a dem ave plain foot
Yuh memba my Candy, dem no elegants,
No clean up white shoes, when dem go to church place

Paña people keep on nyaming picadillo’s
Dem figgat the chilly peppa and coconuts
Callaloo means nothing on dem comprehenshan
Dem open up Jackee before its the real time

Damn foo-fool! Him sehz in plenty regañarin’
Chop up me neck if ‘im no gwein tan lazy in tanga!
Think with head picknee, don’t rush the brush with marriage
Magga pañas within time turn bellyswangas!

What a thing! miss Candy wants a paña partna
Since she saw him, she just blessed him with her eye
She no hearing not a thing about white crampheads,
‘Dem fool fool dem’ she gwein ansa when she’s asked

Di blacka di berry di sweeta di juice
Swagging paña’s disgrace, all’a dem ave plain foot
Yuh memba my Candy, dem no elegants,
No clean up white shoes, when dem go to church place

Candy Blake got married in a paña church boay
Martin fixed up the thing in San José
Puppa Blake cantancarousness ain’t no showing
And Martin hims started dancing dem reggae

Missa Blake now shouts right from his gutta
Pie no mind and please no batha with dem skin
Martin magga paña one has learned patwa now
Him picknees became so good with rice and beans.

Mekateliu what me see in this marriedashan
There is no color when it comes to have someone
Indian, paña, yellow, jet black or mulata
Blood is red if you check up inside dem hearts

If you go and spend your life by searching colors,
You will feel a latta pien into the way,
Just nine days last all’a chats when you skip colors
Candy and husband happy see dem did arrey

Ask’im about Anancy
Ask’im about Jakee
Ask’im about Pam-bon
Ask’im about Patty
Missa Blake and Martin now
Chamberpat and batty
no one beliemme now
Dem were once enemies
Tin swears to God him black
Paña Black man he feels
Blake shouts him, ‘whappen mop!’
Martin shouts ‘im back ‘Irie!’