Lyrics Ital-You-Can-Eat - Curly Castro, Billy Woods

Ital-You-Can-Eat

Step into the ital spot act cocky
Stomach on growl like face from Hank Shocklee
Came here on the humble sign, neon-green open
Finally made my mind up on the last thing smoking
Now I’m feeling irie, my turn at the counter
Dread look me up and down could suck his teeth louder
Get over my spectacles, menu on my browser
Him like «wha yuh wan, we close anotha hour?»
Now I’m on the clock, attitude free of charge
I ask another question, I’m met with a «oh Lawd!
You should be on yuh order instead yuh wanna talk
Fine, how ya motha, how ya fatha, how ya dog?»
I’m like, «son I may be Yankee still I spit rum
Pow Bajan, second-coming Buju Banton»
All the wickedness and bickering, the clock still ticking
And I’m done with this fucking, gimme the jerk chicken
Fuck chicken, get money (when I)
Fuck kitchens, get money (when I)
Fuck chicken, get money (when I)
Fuck kitchens, get money (when I)
Ox tail slow simmer, sensimilla
Thick it’s like we hit the dimmer
Kiss me neck, me nah serve that fi dinner
Nuff respect but me nah have that fi lunch
Soup with pumpkin, dasheen, scallion bunch
Me not deal with Babylon rush rush
Burn a corn husk, garlic mash up
Scotch bonnet so strong, eye water when it cut
Overproof in a cup, pork roast ‘pon ya pit hog gon' split
Busha, what you know about this rose fish
Porgy cornbread, cold bammy, snapper escovitch?
Strictly what I deal with, festival langoustine so fresh it’s seasick
Poor but we eat rich
Poor but we eat rich
Fuck chicken, get money (when I)
Fuck kitchens, get money (when I)
Fuck chicken, get money (when I)
Fuck kitchens, get money (when I)