to be cured, sick be nourished, she is protected as the duty that we share
When you take up a stab and I do not take it for no draw
It's more than just the locks upon your head and what you smoke
The words them that you spoke, energies you evoke
They must be your reflection of the king
I emerge from the shadows with my big spliff of glow
Kabaka sent to call me, said the war it ready now
Draga send me pon the road, with the magazine dem load
Lyrically rapid fire when they attack in the crowd