Chorus
Saturday night, it was Saturday night
Saturday night, last Saturday night
VS 1
Down through de alley playing piece o’ romey
Risking my coppers at a boy salary
Cards hard can’t win a lil trally
Gamble out muh grandmother light bill money
Brek like a bottle muh pocket empty
Would like to check a fete but aint had no currency
So I slide Clyde home to granny old house
Then remember she does sell she lil pudding and souse
Gone in she apron de first thing I see
Sir Grantley hundred dollar play it peeping at me
Well I stash de cash, old girl ah sorry
But you cramp wid corn you can’t miss this lil berry
Beep beep beep beep outside a car horn blow
Me spar John Bocky holla, “Come leh we go!”
So I rush in de yard hold a cowboy quick
Scrub muh teet and in de car hop in it
Thick was de smoke from de chronic
Ibocky had a carrot and I hit piece o’rit
Turn up de Beenie man! Run de route!
“Be careful yuh hear!” me old granny shout
Relax old girl you know that I will
And I hope yuh remember to pay me light bill
Chorus
VS 2
Erkkks! we ease pun this set to collect
A lil school girl friend o’ mine name Yvette
Only 13 but she body correct, correct!
She come by de window in a bare brassiere
She mother holla out, “She aint leffing in here!”
I suh, “Woman shut yuh face, somebody call you
Yvette run de route or wait wuh fuh do?”
"My gentleman you deaf or you play you can’t hear?
I say that Yvette in leffing in here"
"Wait Yvette you’s a woman or a lil baby
You chilling wid you mother or you touring wid me?
Cause I ain't no lil boy, don’t play wid my brain
As you can’t hang wid me don’t come ‘round me again"
She ease from de window put on she clothes quick
Shub in she nose ring, piece o’ lipstick,
Bore pass she mother in de verandah
Sat on my lap and exchange saliva
First gear, second, praproom and we gone
Left she mother cursing and carrying on
"Yuh lil school rat, yuh aint got no shame
When de police got yuh tail don’t call my name"
Chorus
VS 3
So we pull up by de fete, place correct
Patch de gate man and we gone through de door
One DJ Supa spinning hard tunes galore
And pun de floor, women like sand place ram
And John Bocky got a lil thing wukking up pun
Orite man
Sudden so a musty man wid he bad breath self
Up in my face threatening my health
Bout I mash he big toe and didn’t tell he sorry
So he got five minds to chop up my anatomy
Well you see dah talk? Barely asking for trouble
I introduce he head to a sweet drink bottle
One lash in he melts, I know dah does hurt
And I draw my sword to give Two Sons some work
But lucky for he George from de Bayland
Grabble me tight and hold on pun me hand
Cause George know that I sick, I does fight wid de best
I would mek that boy mother go and buy a black dress
He ease off de ground hold on pun he head
Look in he hand all he see was red
Stumble through de door and look back and he say
“Yuh feel that um done but um aint done day"
Chorus
VS 4
Fete done and I ready to go home
High, tired, drunk to de bone
Gone behind de car to leggo lil wee-wee
And a mind tell look ‘round and who should I see
Same bad breath man wid three other men
Them wid shotguns and he wid a ‘lins
"Dah’s he dah’s he dah’s de man day
Yuh feel yuh coulda crack my head and get ‘way"
Bang bang, shotgun, shotties start to bark
I dive behind de car no time fuh skylark
I reach in muh hip fuh muh 9 millimeter
No retreat no surrender
Blak blax and I start licka shot
Bladax bladax and I dare not stop
Til I see a boy fall and he hold he belly
Well once they were four and now they are three
Same time John Bocky step out de dance
Suh wuh gine on and he reach in he pants
For he Mr Tom Selleck, wuh yuh call magnum
But John Bocky aint get chance tuh use um
Badang badang, shotgun in he chest
And John fell to his eternal rest
Oh Lord my God, he never woulda live
Them left more holes in John than a sieve
Bridge
Saturday night, last Saturday night
This is a lesson for de bad boys
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday
VS 5
Yvette holla, “Murder, call de police!”
Still me gun barking and just wouldn’t cease
And she run ‘cross de road to de bimma to hide
And I scream, “No Yvette no guh back inside"
But too late, blam blam gun shot in she head
And I watch me girlfriend how she fall down dead
And I panic and get up and run to help she
Blam blam shotgun hit me right in me belly
And I look up and see de same bad breath man
Smiling at me wid a gun in he hand
So I raise up muh weapon to get off a shot
But felt so weak and fell on de spot
And look ‘round, see John Bocky dead
Yvette pun de ground wid a hole in she head
Blam blam shotgun he pull de trigger again
And in muh chest I felt a burning pain
In a split second it was over and done
I live by de sword and died by de gun
Easy so my life out like a candle
In de darkness I saw de death angel
And cried, "O Lord have mercy on muh soul"
Ah lost muh life at 15 years old
Chorus
