Wheelout
Here I come again…

Infect I n I Rastafari

Wheel out. Here I come again. Run go tell yuh enemy, run go tell yuh fren. De drugs dem gi me soothe me nature, me tek some a de clinic an have some fe tek lata. Yuh ever see sumting like this? Me give out love. Love an affection, an de reward for my loving is sexual infection. Infect I n I Rastafari.

It mek me sad yuh see. Me neva know it possible dat woman could cheat pan me. Me check fe all three a me woman. Peace, Love an I-nity. Peace. Peace. Dat name really suit her. Me too sad fe rail or cuss. Look what come out of pleasure and lust.

Dem seh dat in six week man will be alright, me feel so shame, me spirit blight. Tell me, Rastaman, fe mek love inna glove. ME NAH SLEEP WID NOOOO BODY. I-nity and Love have fe mek sure dem healthy, before dem can even touch me or kiss me. Man, woman, teenager, youth, after what happen to me, Rasta only speak de truth. Go a clinic, check yuh self out and think bout wha yuh a put inna yuh mouth.

Me nah bun fire pan people who love eat, but tink bout you tongue, an you throat, an you teet. Me tink seh me a big bashy loverman veteran, an look what happen to me. Clean, pure, i-teous, conscious Rastaman. Rewind and come again.

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