Guyanese Blood

Grandma curry on the stove, rice pot steam

Cane fields grew my pride, not just my team

From Berbice, Essequibo, coast to creek

That Guyanese blood talk deep when I speak (yeah)

Pepper sauce red, heart even redder

Came from a line make pressure from weather

From boat to bus to block to the boardroom

We build whole worlds out a one small storeroom

Guyanese blood, it run real rude (rude)

Mix up the slang with the Attitude (skrrt)

From the cane in the sun to the concrete mud

Every step that I step is Guyanese blood (yeah yeah)

Guyanese blood, can’t wash that out

Hear it in my tone, in the way I shout

From the market noise to the dancehall thud

Everything that I am is Guyanese blood (woah)

Oil drip talk, but we grew on scraps

Stretch lil ting into big boy racks

Plantain and bake in a brown paper bag

Turn that hustle to a big big flag

Lil cousin send voice note from GT (GT)

Say, “Fam, keep goin’, do it for we”

So I carry whole coast in my chest like crest

If I eat, we eat, that is real progress (yeah)

Guyanese blood, it run real rude (rude)

Mix up the slang with the Attitude

From the cane in the sun to the concrete mud

Every step that I step is Guyanese blood (Guyanese)

Guyanese blood, can’t wash that out

Hear it in my tone, in the way I shout

From the market noise to the dancehall thud

Everything that I am is Guyanese blood (ahh yeah)