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Hola! Soy Celia Cruz |
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Y estoy aqui con Wyclef, celebrando el Carnival |
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Azucar!! |
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(singing) Guantanamera |
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(Wyclef) We out here in Miami just shining |
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(singing) Guajila, Guantanamera |
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(Wyclef) Worldwide |
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(singing) Guan-tana-mera |
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(Wyclef) Bout to bring it to you in stereo |
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(singing) Guajila, Guantanamera |
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Yo soy un hombre sincero |
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(Wyclef) That was then, this is now |
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Welcome to the Carnival, the arrival... c'mon! |
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(Wyclef Jean) |
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Spanish Harlem! Oahh-eee-ohh! |
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Boogie Down Bronx! Oahh-eee-ohh! |
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Manhattan! Oahh-eee-ohh! |
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Back to Staten! Oahh-eee-ohh! |
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(Wyclef sings, then raps) |
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Guantanamera |
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Hey yo I'm standing at the bar with a, Cuban cigar |
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Guajila, Guantanamera |
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Hey, yo, I think she's eyeing me from afar |
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Guan-tana-mera... |
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Guajila Guan-tana-mera... |
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Verse One: Wyclef Jean |
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Yo, I wrote this in Haiti, overlooking Cuba |
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I asked her what's her name, she said, 'Guantanamera' |
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Remind me of an old latin song, my uncle used to play |
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On his old forty-five when he used to be alive |
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She went from a young girl, to a grown woman |
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Like a Virgin, so she sex with no average mahn |
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Peep the figure, move like a caterpillar |
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Fly like a butterfly, let your soul feel her glide |
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Pac Woman better yet Space Invader |
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If your name was Chun-Li, we'd be playin Street Fighter |
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Penny for your thoughts, a nickel for your kiss |
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A dime if you tell me that you love me |
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Chorus: |
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Guantanamera |
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Hey yo, I'm standin at the bar with a, Cuban cigar |
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Guajila, Guantanamera |
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Yo, I think she's eyeing me from afar |
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Guan-tana-mera... |
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Guajila Guan-tana-mera... |
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(singing in Spanish, with Wyclef responses) |
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Soy una mujer, sincera |
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Do you speak English? |
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De donde crecen las palmas |
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Can I buy you a drink? |
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(man joins in) Soy una mujer, sincera |
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Uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh |
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De donde crecen las palmas |
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You killin me |
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Y antes de morir, yo quiero |
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Cantar mis versos del alma |
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Te quiero mama, te quiero!! |
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Guantanamera |
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Aiyyo I'm standing at the bar with a, Cuban cigar |
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Guajila, Guantanamera |
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Hey yo John Forte, she's eyeing me from far |
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Guan-tana-mera... |
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Guajila Guan-tana-mera |
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Verse Two: Lauryn Hill |
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Yo, she was a rose in Spanish Harlem, mamasita beg your pardon |
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Make stakes at a faster rate then she fornicates |
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Pure traits of genius, Goddess of Black Venus |
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Crab niggaz angry cause they can't get between us |
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to no sele-xion, smooth complex-ion |
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The lexicon of Lexington, parents came from Cuba |
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Part Mexican, pure sweet, dimes fell to her feet |
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She like Movado, and shook her hips like Delgado |
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And broke niggaz down from the Grounds to Apollo |
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and then some, she took her act sent it to ?demp sum? |
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And waited patiently while the businessmen come |
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Call late on purpose, got even politicians nervous |
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And made plans to infiltrate the street secret service |
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This gentle flower, fertility was her power |
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Sweet persona, Venus Flytrap primadonna |
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Que sera que sera she turned dinero to dinera |
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(Wyclef responds to singing again) |
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Guantanamera |
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Hey yo I'm standing at the bar with a, Cuban cigar |
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Guajila Guantanamera |
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Hey yo... I think she's eyein me from afar |
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Guan-tana-mera... |
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Guajila Guan-tana-mera... |
