One, Starting from
Rastafari has come,
Children of the Sun
None, Starting from
Magag and Gog have a gun
Nuttin ata bigger than the blazing sun upon
It be better to keep a rational proportion ina yourself
And talk fun, talk gone to see days run
Lose must leave her spot upon the reality show
Dumb so bright and young
From starting from
The caste of house chosen
Ideas in her head some sound like intercom
Done distress a shadow and account the sun
When is no amount of money repair reputation
Kingdom, Selassie I is the holy one
Here say who send the Vatican go take HIM on
On the dun get run
Still ina Rome sit the offshoot of Ethiopia Son
Them call pon do it
The Hedonite fi make blood run ina the Temple son
All the posterity have cursed the sun
Some of them reclamation Jah know the One
The right demands and in counteraction of our Love
Show say..dem get thing is already unwelcome mi sound
To want shame and degradation from oh how long
It whole Earth a run, yeah
Upon the negative compass of shock and scorn
Dem catch dem young
By the time dem figure out it’s too late to run
Like times of disturbing equilibrium
Dem plot and scheme for wants
But only when their fathers carry war weapons
Only when dem brothers carry war weapon
The man carry war weapon
You land your mosquito mind upon the wrong
You hear the son
Or like the Iraqi teenage girl you takes upon
It could be any screenplay which is bar to account on
And know some mother fruit fly dem a go hatch it out
Son, when you bun you sinsemilla
You stand upon holy hallowed ground
The Sun
You know they don’t so come
To pressing them up, like its time bomb
Counting upon whoever under exposure
Expose them to predators and predation
Victimization
Every social the first place dey love to run
And neglect the likkle boy, the daughter and son
They cant get for chance to oppose..pure rebel and get themself bruk down
Mi Son, hear me son