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