[Verse 1]
We are in The Real Jerk (I'm speaking Patois)
This is a dancehall song (But kids don't get it)
They have no culture, please
All they know is "Damn, Daniel" and dabbing
Drake my side piece (No, we are not dating)
Only answer when I need him for his rapping (What's my name, Drake?)
I'm from Barbados
Roc Nation is my label
Yeah, they hired Rita Ora
That bitch still ain't had a tour, ah
Nobody have this many hit songs
People humping and wearing thongs
They said that Taylor Swift is a role model
Really, I'd rather hit her with a bottle
Drake, get off your ass and dancе to the fuckin' beat
Sorry, I was just thinking about how I destroyеd Meek
I'm in the club and there's garbage on the floor
Everyone in here is high
Man, I want some curry goat
With oxtails and some festivals, hmm-hmm-hmm
Oh, yeah, Ciara is working as the fried cook, she's clocking into

[Verse 2]
Work, work, I am so poor
These fries are getting burned, burned, I am so flop
Don't forget my plantains and my dumplings
Yes, queen, can you tip so I can feed my son?
Oh, nah-nah, bitch, you crazy
Ask Future for some baby money
You suck and you can't book stages, honey

[Outro]
Yeah, okay, Rihanna, please stop dancing with other guys
I thought we were dating, I love you, baby, oh
Drake, you need to chill out, mon
We got a number one song
Now get out mi face before mi bust yuh bloodclaat head in
Lawd, these Canadian bwoys, mi should have stayed in Barbados, yuh know