Dem a ya loveless, weakness me dey got chest A burn a ya burn down Babilantes
Dem a interrogate, wah me help fi keep stress Just now dey come to realise
Somehow dey a want to criticise Black people give you worse, yet dem do have no rights
Dem a do the dirty work, get your sugar side Now me start to beg, dem serve dey a night
Rasta man a nurse, no Pharisees, no scribes
Truth is dey warriors