| Sipple it down-down, sipple it down-down
|
| It’s a rudeboy town, it’s Kingston town
|
| Some man have no manners, steal and try fi beg a thing
|
| If you no drop no green, a strait of dissing thing
|
| Sun a bun traffic, it’s a slow rhythm
|
| JCF a move rough, them bus' the M16
|
| Some man a drive up and down, them have the latest thing
|
| Machine fit in a them jeans a show off girls and bling
|
| Smell of marijuana round the corner them juggling
|
| One mad man get 'im food straight outta the garbage bin, ey!
|
| Sipple it down-down, sipple it down-down
|
| It’s a rudeboy town, it’s Kingston town
|
| This a the gun land
|
| Blood run cold, blood 'pon the white sand
|
| Concrete a bun put some pads up your chin
|
| Bad Babylon boy them kill a youth and one old woman a chant some
|
| An' while a neck sit a monster the rat-ta-ta-tan-ta
|
| Them dig more grave than rooms up-a Hilton
|
| Small community get wash up by a blood stain
|
| Every weekend same routine with new function
|
| Pusher them count more dead than 9−11 destruction, ey!
|
| Sipple it down-down, sipple it down-down
|
| It’s a rudeboy town, it’s Kingston town
|
| The gyal them pants tight like rubber suit
|
| And a them blouse one tiny something hide up perfect boobs
|
| Them always a smile if you a go pay the I
|
| Them a go play you one trick if you a mama’s boy
|
| It’s a tough man town, there’s no crown and no throne
|
| It a go, lick you down, with a, dancehall soun'
|
| If you a stranger and you drive, make sure you know the route
|
| You don’t wanna get salute by a gun dispute
|
| Sipple it down-down, sipple it down-down
|
| It’s a rudeboy town, it’s Kingston town |