Intro:
Black people don't get weary,
Dem tek off the shackles an face we,
But still we under mental slavery,
Unno sing with the Startrail posse (My Lord)
Chorus:
Fire pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an him scissors an comb,
Black people waan go home
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne
Repeat
Verse 1:
Well, this is my question
To Issa and the one Matalon
How unno get fi own so much black people land
After dem slave, achieve nutten inna hand
Check out greater Portmore, Braeton
One room unno build a sell fi one million
Dem dey studio house nuh worth a hundred gran
Thrue mi a lick out dem waa mi keep quiat
But mi a bun fire fi di one Butch Stewart
Who buy out di plane an all di pilot
Thrue mi nuh inna Jamaica, love fi tan
Mi haffi bun fire fi the one Naree Azan
Everybody know how downtown a fi di poor man
How dem claims it an sey a to dem it belong
No more hustling, dat mean no food inna hand
One help wi have is the Almighty One
Jamaicans chant mi song
Chorus
Verse 2:
My Lord, don't talk jus listen,
Mi haffi bun fire fi P.J. Patterson
Him mek certain move an wi nuh too certain
How much black youth behind iron curtain
Thrue mi naw go trod inna Babylon order
Mi haffi bun fire fi one name Seaga
Everyday cost a living get harder
Have more seller more than buyer
Oh my Lord , what a pressure
Chorus
Verse 3:
So many things politician have stolen
Still them return with the one Bruce Golding
Saying a brand new party dem forming
But a part dem a part we with dem politics meeting
Out A politics poor people get them beaten
Look who dem have a tun metropolitan officer
Fi tek yuh hustling out a yuh hand
When yuh look pon dem face a yuh own black man
Well out of the slum di poor people send mi
Fi look what a gwaan and don't disagree
What is the benefit of GCT?
It benefit you but it never fit me.
Chorus
