*since I don t speak French nor Gulla, please excuse my spelling.
Hey sista, go sista, soul sista, go sista
hey sista, go sista, soul sista, go sista.
He met Marmalade down in old New Orleans,
struttin her stuff on the street. she said,
Hello Joe, you wanna give it a go?
Chorus...
Gitchi, gitchi, ya-ya, da-da. Gitchi, gitchi, ya-ya here.
Mocca chocolata, ya-ya. creole lady Marmalade. she said,
voules-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir. Voules vous avec moi.
he stayed in her boudoir while she freshened up.
That boy drank all that magnolia wine, on her
black satin sheets, I swear he started to freak. when she said,
(chorus)
Instrumental..
Hey, hey, hey...
Seeing her skin feeling silky smoothe, color of cafe au lait, made the
savage beast inside roar, until it cried.. More, more, more!
Now he s at home doing nine to five. Living his life of lies.
But when he turns off to sleep, old memories keep. More, more, more!
(chorus)
Creole lady Marmalade
