Him a Shotta

Him a shotta
livin life on him edge.
Girl by de side, she wait
for him light fe break.

“Why fe you a romeo?”
she say, but him naw respond
‘cau him a shotta,
and him too hard fe speak.

But she naw sceered a him.
His frown mek her wet
down dere in her tropical flow
so she a-come back at him,
“Deny dem shottas and refuse thy game.”

“Gwan, girl,” him say.
“My naked weapon is out; quarrel,
I will back ‘pon you.”

“Dem’s not your words,” she say.
“‘Sides, me have seen ya weapon,
and dat ship naw sail.
“Ya kiss by de book.”

“Me gwine kiss ya in yon’ tropics.
Beseech ya girl, come by me,
and come, girl, an’ come.”
So she gon’ swoon a bit,
and Romeo, him continue,
“Arise, and a come, fair sun,
burn ya’ tropics and kill
de envious moon.”

“Again, I say, ‘Deny dem shottas
and refuse dey game.’”

“And if I will not?”

“Den be but sworn my love
and I’ll be a shotta too.”
And she t’row down she rope
and say, “Climb up, bway,
an’ be quick. Me feelin’ a tropical
storm a-come.”

“Me come, fair Juliette. Me come,
me come, and come, and
come.”