Shanty Town People

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Fire and brimstone up in Laventille We are living on the hill, some people move in by me I was so happy on the hill, never had trouble 'Til they build housing project and bring shanty town people Lord I planning to move away, I ain't staying there, no not me But I'm broken and ah bawling "No money to pay, you see!" And the only available apartments around Is where they move from the Shanty-Town [Chorus] And big Sunday evening They drinking, they cussing, they fighting Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup! Iron-bolt and stonе pelting Send for the policе Still the bacchanal don't cease So they violent, so they fas They better go back to their mansion on the La Basse [Verse 2] So much decent people live in Laventille so long Always getting grim 'bout them rats that leave Shanty-Town And they so dishonest, they ain't have no mind They even thief meh girlfriend brassiere hanging on the line Well I never see trouble so mama since ah born, no no no Meh fowl and meh turkey and meh pigeon gone, ah-huh! Meh girl bring a police to get back she clothes And then he kill he and she with blows [Chorus] And big Sunday morning They fighting, they cussing, they gambling Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup! Iron-bolt and stone pelting Send for the police Still the bacchanal don't cease So they violent, so they fas They better go back to their mansion on the La Basse [Verse 3] Ah pack up meh belongings to move out next day You better bring up that truck as to take me to Claxton Bay Because ah fed up and ah disgust with them parasite When you living in a neighbourhood like that you bound to get blight But they sit down in meh driveway with a Shango drum, oh Lawd Every man with a flambeau and they drinking rum like mad And they want me to bounce them with meh jitney to get insurance money [Chorus] Big Sunday evening They fighting, they cussing, they gambling Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup! Iron-bolt and stone pelting Send for the police Still the bacchanal don't cease So they violent, so they fas They better go back to their their mansion on the La Basse [Verse 4] Ah can't live there and they won't allow me to go Whether morning, noon or night they have a watchman in front meh door A short black one, always bareback with dada head Ah catch him passing through meh window and he threaten to kill me dead Well they break down meh jalousie even though it nailed for me They guarding meh bedroom as if I in jail, you see They thief all meh furniture and carry it to pawn Set fire to meh house and gone [Chorus] Big Sunday morning They cussing, they fighting, they gambling Beating pan, they beating and bup-bup! Iron-bolt and stone pelting Send for the police Still the bacchanal don't cease So they violent, so they fas They better go back to their their mansion on the La Basse