Caribbean Breeze

CHORUS (x4)
Palm trees in the place
Melanin the race
Bananas in a case
Shades on my face
Say what?
(ha haha ha ha haha)
Say…
(ha haha ha ha haha)
Say what?
(ha haha ha ha haha ha… ha… ha)
I got a plate of white rice, with peas on top
Pop said
Plantain be my crop, so
I hopped on a plane to land o’ sugar cane
‘cause I just had to know where my roots came from. (Hey-o!)
Rum, Bermúdez, had me like coolin’
In the shade with my straw hat, comin’ back, (Phat!)
Skin tone all tanned to black
You can hear me then get back at the shack
(Relax!) to the breeze of the Caribbean
We could SCUBA dive, we could go sightseein’
Feelin’ like Rambo suckin’ on a mango
We could Lambada, we could just Tango. (Huh!)
Piña colada, ‘cause every day’s hotta
Ripe avocado, pollo asado
At the break o’ day, you hear the song from the gallo
Chillin’ in the tropics, ain’t nuttin’ but flat broke
CHORUS x4
I got a icy cold fruit shake
Chillin’ in a warm lake
Feeding on green grapes
Huggin’ on a brown man
Welcoming a phat tan
Feeling like Tarzan
Wear my jungle shorts
The merchants I support
(‘cause I) could relate to the fact of being broke
Like the brakes that stop you from going forth
The bright light blue sky got the reason, and I know why
I just breeze him with a quick reply
And exchange for his commodity for my currency
I’m not your everyday tourist
I came with the same courage that my father left with, (Uh.)
And the pride that my mother gave him
And the joy that the breeze brings, that make the birds sing
And the leaves shake, I can’t wait to go back to this paradise
That’s been so polite, (huh huh) I promise I’m right
CHORUS x4
We in the heart of the forest, (Whuh?)
A native’s not a tourist, (Come on.)
In a paradise, got a drink on ice
(In my) deepest roots, and passion is a fruit
Clear blue skies and oceans, i always show the folk: (to the)
To the flag I’m patriotic
The girls are exotic
Watch the way we drop it
From New York to the tropics
From green grass
Palm breaks, now the stone got stepped on
The way to success yo I can’t forget
All my hard working people
The blood-hungry ‘moquito’
The Sally from the yard
The quarry cab cars
Sun, moon, the stars
Must take us beyond
But I’m down, down to Earth
‘cause I worship us
So ladies first, (Uh.)
With all due respect
The sacred intellect
That make me feel best
(Ener-ener-ener-ener)
Ener-gy from the Sun
The cow-skin drums
The dance and the tunes
That make all people one
CHORUS x3
MCs in the place
Live in yo face
Records in a crate
New York is the state! (Uh.)
Ooooooh, and I like it
(Under the sun!)