Welcome to Jamrock

NOTE: I have taken the liberty to translate this quote from Jamaican English to American English. The original would read much, much differently. Also, anything parenthetically notated has been added by myself.


"Welcome to Jamrock."

"The camp where, the thugs, they camp at...
(With) Two pounds of weed in a van bag.
It's in your hand bag, your knapsack, and in your back-pack,
The smell will give your girlfriend a contact (high).
Some guys don't notice, they only come around like a tourist,
On the beach with a few club sodas,
(And) Bedtime stories, and pose like their name is Chuck Norris,
And don't know the real hardcore.
And, watch your back too. These thugs, they will do what they have to,
And won't think twice to shoot you.
Don't make them spot you. Unless you carry guns with you,
And bare them whenever someone steps at you.
When a trenchtown man stops and laughs and blocks off traffic,
And, your wheels pop off and they cock it back,
With the pin file back and in a beat drop it,
(The) Police show up and they can't even stop it.
Some say that they're a "player" or a "pimp" and all of this...
(But those) "Funny-men" get dropped like a bad habit.
So you better not pose tough if you don't have it..
('Cause)Rastafari stands alone.

Out in the streets, they call it "MURDER."


Welcome to Jamdom.
(Where) Poor people are dead at random.
Political violence is done.
(Like)Pure ghost and phantom, the youths, they get blinded by what they think is "stardom."
Now the King Of Kings will come.
Old man to pickney, wave all your hands if you're with me.
To see this suffering, it sickens me.
Their suits don't "fit" me. To win elections, they trick me.
Then, they don't do a thing at all.
Come on, let's face it, a ghetto education is basic.
As most of the youths, they waste it.
And when they waste it, they pick up guns to replace it.
Then they don't stand a chance at all...
And, that's why so many little youths have up some fat (auto)-matics.
With an extra magazine in their back pocket.
And, have leisure night-time under the "black jacket."
All of them who "lock glocks" are like a lock rocket.
And we piss them off like a current in a short circuit.
They run roadblocks and the cops don't do a thing.
And from dusk until the morning, no one stops to clock them speeding.
In case they run out of rounds, they have a "back ratchet."

Out in the streets, they call it "MURDER."

"Welcome to Jamrock."

-Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley




Tags: Reggae, Politics, Education, Guns, Crime, Drugs, Youths