I was walkin' down the street, concentratin' on truckin' right
I heard a dark voice beside of me
And I looked 'round in a state of fright
I saw four faces, one mad; a brother from the gutter
They looked me up and down a bit and turned to each other

I say, I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it
I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it

Don't you walk through my words
You got to show some respect
Don't you walk through my words
Cause you ain't heard me out yet

Well, he looked down on my silver chain
He said: 'I'll give you one dollar'
I said: 'You've got to be jokin', man
It was a present from my mother'
He said: 'I like it, I want it, I'll take it off your hands
And you'll be sorry you crossed me
You better understand
That you're alone (a long way from home)'.

And I say, I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it
I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it

Don't you cramp me style, don't you queer me pitch
Don't you walk through my words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet

I hurried back to the swimming pool, sinkin' Pina Colada
I heard a dark voice beside me say
'Would you like something harder?'
She said: 'I've got it, you want it, my harvest is the best
And if you try it
You'll like it and whollow in a Dreadlock holiday.

And I say, don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her
Don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her, oh yeah

Don't you walk through her words
You got to show some respect
Don't you walk through her words
'Cause you ain't heard me out yet

I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it
(Dreadlock holiday)
I don't like reggae, oh no, I love it
(Dreadlock holiday)
I don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her
(Dreadlock holiday)

See also:
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