Caribbean Breeze - The Wiseguys, Season

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

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

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

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!)