Los Pepinillos Hermanos

Reggae Pickle (Crunchy Cucumba) A reggae pickle? A raasclaat reggae pickle? Mi bet seh him a one real crunchy cucumba… Was a likkle cucumber, fresh an green, Now mi brine up, for di reggae machine. Green inna mi soul, green in mi blood, Still bring di vibes wherever mi trod. Dem laugh an seh, "Yuh funny, mon!" Mi just seh, "Watch how di pickle carry on!" Born as cucumber, destiny fickle... Now di whole world know mi Raasclaat Pickle. Dem call mi pickle like it was a joke... Now dem all a dance wit di fire riddim smoke. Reggae Pickle! (Wave yuh pickle high!) Crunch it to di moon, (Crunch it to di sky!) Like a crispy taco, (di crumbs lift up an fly!) Reggae Pickle! (Bless every plate!) Without di pickle… food cyan taste right! Floatin' pon di riddim, easy an slow, Where di pickle roll, good vibes grow. Head inna cloud, feet pon di ground, Crunch so sweet, hear dat sound. If life give yuh lemons, squeeze dem inna di brine, Wake up crunchy, green skin ready fi shine. Cucumber dream, but a pickle reality. Same green soul, just different destiny. Reggae Pickle! (Wave yuh pickle high!) Crunch it to di moon, (Crunch it to di sky!) Like a crispy taco, (di crumbs lift up an fly!) Reggae Pickle! (Bless every plate!) Without di pickle… food cyan taste right! Some man chase gold, some man chase fame, Mi just embrace mi silly pickle name. Mi feel so briny, mi feel so free, Everything crunchy, just let it be. Reggae Pickle! (Wave yuh pickle high!) Crunch it to di moon, (Crunch it to di sky!) Like a crispy taco, (di crumbs lift up an fly!) Reggae Pickle! (Bless every plate!) Without di pickle… food cyan taste right!