| Dreadlock holiday I was walkin' down the street Concentratin' on truckin' right I heard a dark voice beside of me And I looked 'round in a state of fright I saw four faces, one mad; a brother from the gutter They looked me up and down a bit And turned to each other I say, I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it Don't you walk through my words You got to show some respect Don't you walk through my words Cause you ain't heard me out yet Well, he looked down on my silver chain He said: 'I'll give you one dollar' I said: 'You've got to be jokin', man It was a present from my mother' He said: 'I like it, I want it, I'll take it off your hands And you'll be sorry you crossed me You better understand That you're alone (a long way from home)' And I say, I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it Don't you cramp me style, don't you queer me pitch Don't you walk through my words 'Cause you ain't heard me out yet I hurried back to the swimming pool, sinkin' Pina Colada I heard a dark voice beside me say 'Would you like something harder?' She said: 'I've got it, you want it, my harvest is the best And if you try it You'll like it and whollow in a Dreadlock holiday' And I say, don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her Don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her, oh yeah Don't you walk through her words You got to show some respect Don't you walk through her words 'Cause you ain't heard me out yet I don't like cricket, oh no ... |
