And a incense, herbs and oils
And the thoughts are clean
And tie mi knotty dem neatly
Mi teach her each and everytime
A five bills bag a stinky
True she roots and culture
In my flavorite dungarees
And It sounds so good to me
My flavorite stooks beside me
But my locks got in the way
Through the weeping willow
Could a land up ah Sao Paulo