The big mama isn’t
on parade
She keeps her
silence doesn’t appear in public
She doesn’t want to
hear about the talk
The grapevine must be
full of hot gossips
Maybe the big mama
will hear
The knock on her
door by the blues gang
Once they have
firmed up the charges
She will have to
wear the orange outfit
So far, the grapevine
spreads
She will be hauled
to face Amla
On the dance floor
she can’t dance
She can’t shake her
body
The big mama will
feel the fear
Raining in her mind
to face her Amla
The law doesn’t
pick and choose
Once it is laid
out, the person can’t escape
So now we hear
The grapevine
speaks of the hot gossips
The blues gang
going to knock on her door
Black magic or not
the blues gang will arrive
Will big mama cry?
The day will knock
on her door
Amla will walk into
her life
She can scream but
nobody will hear
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