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Bridgetown

by kevinds

/
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    Cacique Vol. 1
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about

Cacique Vol.1
Rebel Mogul Ent.

lyrics

Chorus:

Bridgetown Town,
I’m from Bridgetown.
These Streets Remade me,
My spoiled youth engraven.
My daddy issues drove a ghetto yuke crazy,
Now I’m scheming on these Grantley’s.
Now I’m scheming on these Grammy’s.

Verse 1:

Cacique pushing Capital,
In a caravan.
My backyard’s a stone throw from the badlands.
Where rude boys might snatch your necklace for some Henny.
Or buying new streams for their baby mama remmy.
From the world’s cleanest beaches,
To the Red Light Night Cap.
My hommies hooligan’s and scholar’s,
Education balanced us.
With just enough ratchet.
And a tad bit of righteousness.
Don’t rock jordan’s but I might kick some Chuck’s.
These boys jelly of the flow,
But it’s god given,
So that’s cut.
Off like OT,
Curry heavy Roti’s,
Exotic Top Models,
At the local Bacchanal,
We all throw parties over squares,
It’s new Crack Hustle.
This Bajan Renaissance,
We don’t douggy solo,
Might slow wine pun ya’ gal.

Chorus:
Bridgetown Town,
I’m from Bridgetown.
These Streets Remade me,
My spoiled youth engraven.
My daddy issues drove a ghetto yuke crazy,
Now I’m scheming on these Grantley’s.
Now I’m scheming on these Grammy’s.

Verse 2:

I’ve seen mothers lose their sons,
To crimes fueled by drugs.
Politician’s they eating,
Deh bellies are overfilled.
Project’s are thinning out,
Bodies are overcooking.
Crabs inside the barrel,
Drinking is our addiction.
Gem of the Caribbean,
Sam Lord’s Treasure Grove.
Inherited my heritage,
Melanin is evidence.
Cupboards loaded with webs,
Can foods for weekly dinner,
No Silver Spoons imbued.
Swooned beneath concrete,
A rose emerged.
Chattel chains to tridents,
We broke the curse,
Pride among the wealthy,
My time is coming up,
I’m chilling. x2

Exotic Top Models,
At the local Bacchanal,
We all throw parties over squares,
It’s new Crack Hustle.

This Bajan Renaissance,
We don’t douggy solo,
Might slow wine pun ya’ gal.

Bridge:

Cops wanna shoot all kids,
Shit. 
Dolla Dolla bill ish,
Only ting abolished are our chains.
Welcome to the Red Isle,
Guess our ancestor’s sowed the seas,
For our dollars to be slaves.
We all love Barbados,
til She’s Beaten And Abused.
Tattered Black And Blue from the fame.
Glossy Gold makeup,
Keep us from the truth,
That our dollars,
Our abused and estranged.

Reprieve:

Don’t rock jordan’s but I might kick some Chuck’s.
These boys jelly of the flow,
But it’s god given,
So that’s cut.
Off like OT,
Curry heavy Roti’s,

Exotic Top Models,
At the local Bacchanal,
We all throw parties over squares,
It’s new Crack Hustle.

This Bajan Renaissance.

credits

released November 25, 2016
Written By Kevin DS
Producer Yondo

license

all rights reserved

tags

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SVT-III Barbados

Thirdian Theory

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