Wheelout
Here I come again…

Nuh stalk I n I

Wheel out. Here I come again. Run go tell yuh enemy, run go tell yuh fren. Rizla a try trick me, ask me fe charge him gas an electricity. When man entertain kings and people of substance, dem nuh fe come trouble dem wid no nonsense. Still. Me comfy and warm in him nice stushy flat, me sleep pan de sofa, lie in de bath, eat out de food, listen music and laugh. Babylon viper infect nough conscious Idren, me a cross de border but him a try put me in de system. Me nuh vex, cause him Irie, let me put £5 on each of him key.

Me go a me yard and look through de post, de renking, skenking jobseeker people a stalk me like ghost. Dem want me, ME, Willisford Philogee, to apply fe dem job in dem slave driver company. If me nuh look job and use Babylon biro, dem will stop me rent payments and teeth back me giro. How me can stop dis abomination?

Me warn mek dem bend down low, let me, Rastafari, tell dem what I know. To slew dem how I n I set de plan, me need rest, and time, to help we concentration. Work inna dem building, imprison fe hours, yes boss, no boss, give dem me power. Bun fire pan dem rules an regulation. I’m tired of being a slave and when I n I come together, every knee shall bow. DAT YUH FE KNOW.

Next week me have de appointment, let me go get some frankincense, myrhh an me special ointment. So many years down inna Babylon but I n I  keep moving on, moving on, moving on. Rastafari liveth for i-ver. Rewind and come again.

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