Because you never take an artisan’s word just like that, fwa, we will hope, dear Cindy, that the subject of discussion in this song does not bare any real-life significance with the actual conditions of your relationship with the white boy. (The song is a protest against men who are so stingy and restrictive with their spouses). We have known musicians to make a few revelations about personal life, than just plain entertainment in the depths of the lyrics in their songs. Just saying!
Getting that out of the way and settling into the song, it is interesting to note that somewhere along this song’s bridge, Cindy takes off a second or two to appreciate her fans, and the fact that they are the ones that have made her who she is. I know many musicians refer to fans once in a while, with words like “my people” but they don’t usually have the humility of acknowledging that it is fans that have made them who they are. And that is quite exemplary from Cindy.
Amateeka has ruled its fair share of the dance floor, because it has the va-va-voom, oomph and agreeable forcefulness that good groovy dancehall music should have. Cindy has recently made this her forte. She seems to do this effortlessly. When she sings, Cindy seems to have been cut straight out of dancehall raw material. Maybe the Blu*3 break up wasn’t entirely bad after all.