Текст:
Illegal guns
They roam the night
In hungry hands
Waiting to bite
The first sign of
Any food in sight
Youths in the dark
Searching for light
Hard time they face
Is not a choice
Police curfew
Is no surprise
And with no one
To be there voice
Do they stand a chance?
Where there's, more hungry mouths
Then food to eat
Where you find those who
Claim to lead
Because of all there personal greed
They always want more than they need
They don't help those
Below the Ave
Instead they stand aside and laugh
As if it's all we'll ever ask
When will they make a change?
Its like a punk never check
Or dem did forget
We nature naughty
Ah true mi go born uptown
Tell dem fools don't cross me
That's only where Cindy brought me
And that's why they can't impress me
With no boasty car
Me know dat ah kill dem softly
And then they're not
Really even who they think they are
They're not really moving crafty
Mi get fi understand
Say them plan dem faulty
Well nuff a dem a twenty
And favor forty
Filthy rich big belly
And hearty
Di real Gideon will
Be arriving shortly
Rasta nuh beat Binghi
Drum we claatt it
We live longer
Cause we food nuh salty
We grow stronger
And dem can't assault we
So haile Rastafari love
And exhalt it