Sugar Minott - Oh Mr. D.C.
And time so tough
Time so rough
Coming from the country with my bag of collie
I walk up on a D.C., him want fe hold me
Don't you run now youth-man, you won't get away
If you slip you will die
And if you run you can't hide
For I've got my clip, stuck right in my hip, now
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you take my ishen
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you touch my collie
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
The children crying for hunger and I-man a suffer
So you've got to see, it's just collie that feeds me
Fifty cents a stick, and a dollar a quarter
That's what keeps me alive, me and my two kids and wife
So give me a chance sir, a make me gwaan little faster
Just let me pass through, and Jah will bless you
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you take my ishen
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you touch my collie
Now, for the time is so rough, I gotta hustle, yea.
I got the great sensimilla, and the good lambsbread, ya
A little Dry Pon Stump and a little Goat head, ya
You dread them waiting in the city
We go lick it to the gritty
So please Mister D.C., won't you have some pity?
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you take my ishen
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you touch my collie
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you touch my ishen
Whoa-oa-oa D.C.
Don't you touch my collie
No, no, no, no, Mister D.C.
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