Weep in the mornin', hear your mama she a ball this mornin', I'm callin', weep in the mornin', when she a one son ball, you make me put down the sixteen, pick up the gatlin', lend out me mercy to rub him fillin' skin, boy this the program a wicked man haunt him, but I inna the back a the gear I dump him a now, but precipita when me gear him gon' leave him body decompose, before the day a rot him,