Cuckoo Tom
© 1998 Fajita Musik

A free-wheelin' ode to marijuana inspired by Bing's good friend Mr. B.

Hey Cuckoo Tom
what a man, what a man, there a man - do you have some?
Hey Cuckoo Tom - over trail and gravel I do wander
Hey Cuckoo Tom - big belly, big belly, come tell me what you got now
Hey Cuckoo Tom - tromp up dis hill, I'll wait no longer

That Cuckoo Tom, he call me on de phone and he did say
"come along and meet me down in Montego Bay, all alone now
we take a jeepney and set out for the day
go trompin' up the hill to snag a bit of de hay, come along now"

where to buy my weed?

I'm from L.A. and not from Jamaica, but listen to my story, I've got someplace to take you
like the sound of dance hall, like me natty dreads
like me skunk, like me gold, like me panama red
in the morning, wake and bake, I have a talk with Durban Brown
in the evening when I ache, Mary Jane, she help me cool down
no better friend there is when down to stems and seeds
Cuckoo Tom he know the rastas and dey sure got what you need

seek callie man, gotta go and quickly find some callie

better mon you better mon I, for the love of wisdom weed
better mon you better mon I, a better world it is indeed
better mon you better mon I, no one should intercede
better mon you better mon I, through herb we will be freed

glory to the father and His wondrous creation
it aids in life's affairs and helps promote meditation
we know that dem dat smoke are under some condemnation
but they can never take us all - WE ARE A NATION

CHORUS

Cuckoo Tom Cuckoo Tom - hey man where are you coming from?
Leading me on and I don't wanna go home
Cuckoo Tom Cuckoo Tom - hey man where are you coming from?
Leading me on and I don't wanna go home

Cuckoo Tom was waiting at the airport with a jeepney mon
took the pack off my back and threw it in a stack with the rest of his shit, we were gone
trompin' up dat hill in the hot, hot sun - the jeepney bounce lively, we'll be sore when we're done

when I smoke the herb you know my eyes see far
I can see straight from Jamaica unto Panama

this chronic subsonic is a noteworthy tonic
for the very thing that ails you, libations will impale you
there is no comparison 'tween ganja and rum
'cause the former keep you cool while the other make you glum
it's that rum don't you know that pronounces your doom
all hail to great ganja, the solvent of gloom

ganja, got any on ya?
sticky like honey and red like sonja?
by the bud, bag, clone, plant, seed or spliff
it's medicinal - here's how you spell relief
double - U, double - E, "D", you see?
double - U, double - E, "D", you see?
grass for any class, a nickel bag changes your outlook real fast
belabor the point while you're stoned on a joint
but only after you toke can you deliver the masterstroke
blam! blam! pass me the tray
I'll clean this motherfucker, we can spark a fat J and get down
and look around to the sound as it beats, beats

CHORUS

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