ganja smuggling [live] - eek-a-mouse lyrics
[pre*song * barry g]
couple of months ago we had a song in jamaica which was very controversial
as you probably know, i work on station jbc
is the national station, they’ve got two radio stations in jamaica
radio jamaica and the jamaica broadcasting corporation
well, they call me “the boogie man”
couple of months ago i played a song on the radio an’ i almost got myself in trouble
lyrics of the song went: “mi say, mi love fi mi virgin girl”
the director of my radio station, he couldn’t deal with the lyrics, but then, the song went to number one after only four weeks
who is it on stage who’s gonna throw it down?
who will it be?
i didn’t hear you; i didn’t hear you
sergeant [?] an’ eek*a*mouse, come on, let’s hear you
a one of dem!
[intro]
yes, a me!
a mi name eek*a*mouse, you know
that’s patwah
i am eek*a*mouse, proper english
to fire another round here
you see me, you know
i don’t deejay; deejay talk
i man don’t toss, you know
i man sing, i do some amharic slur, you know
you know i mean?
yeah, when some of dem sing, dem say, “la*la”, some say, “wo*wo” some say “yeah*yeah”
mi no say dat
[chorus]
[scatting]
[verse 1]
early, early sunday morning
it was a big, big ganja smuggling (de*den)
in a di mud mi a pick cali bud
an’ mi a load dem down in a the tub (ben*a*men)
one by one, mi load up the van
say, all of the ganja, it ram
mi put it on a plane, the weed gone a spain
but a money jus’ a pour like rain
mi jus’ a model up the lane in a gold*rope chain (hey!)
mi an’ di girl name jane
[chorus]
[scatting]
[verse 2]
down there in the ghetto i grow
where sufferation i once know (hey!)
mummy an’ daddy, all of we so poor
we all had to sleep on the floor (hey!)
storm, it come, an’ it blow down mi door
mi have fi nail up mi window
mi shoes tear up, mi toe jus’ a show
mi nuh know a where fi really run*go
mummy jus’ a bawl, “poor, poor, poor”
mi cry, she say, “son, cry no more”
[chorus]
[scatting]
[verse 3]
early, early sunday morning
it was a big, big ganja smuggling
in a di mud mi a pick cali bud
an’ mi a load dem down in a the tub (hey!)
one by one, mi load up the van
all of the ganja, it ram
mi put it on a plane, the weed gone a spain
but a money jus’ a pour like rain
mi jus’ a model up the lane
in a gold rope chain (ben)
mi an’ mi girl name jane
[chorus]
[scatting]
[verse 4]
down there in the ghetto i grow
where sufferation i once know (hey!)
mummy an’ daddy, all of we so poor
we all had to sleep on the floor
storm, it come, an’ it blow down mi door
mi have fi nail up mi window
mi shoes tear up, mi toe jus’ a show
mi no know a where fi really run*go
mummy jus’ a bawl, “poor, poor, poor”
mi cry, she say, “son, cry no more”
[chorus]
[scatting]
[outro]
but a yow! but a yow! [scatting]
yeah, it is the one deh
“ganja smuggling”
yeah; and it’s eek*a*mouse style, dat
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