| Where there’s, more hungry mouths
|
| Than food to eat
|
| It’s where the homeless
|
| Roam the street
|
| Where broken glass
|
| And broken dreams
|
| Are shattered and scattered
|
| Amongst debris
|
| Sufferation wrath
|
| And still they laugh
|
| And dream of a mansion
|
| Above the half
|
| No one to speak
|
| Upon there behalf
|
| Now tell me do they stand a chance?
|
| Where there’s, more food
|
| Than mouths to feed
|
| Where you find those who
|
| Claim to lead
|
| Because of all their personal greed
|
| They always want more than they need
|
| They don’t help those
|
| Below the half
|
| Instead they stand aside and laugh
|
| As if it’s all we’ll ever ask
|
| When will they make a change?
|
| CHORUS (Yami Bolo)
|
| Children lift your heads
|
| To the one
|
| Who create the sun
|
| My children
|
| And your light will come shinning again
|
| Show the world
|
| Jah love is okay
|
| When we rise and greet the sun
|
| Lets give him thanks and praise
|
| Illegal guns
|
| They roam the night
|
| In hungry hands
|
| Waiting to bite
|
| The first sign of Any food in sight
|
| Youths in the dark
|
| Searching for light
|
| Hard time they face
|
| Is not a choice
|
| Police curfew
|
| Is no surprise
|
| And with no one
|
| To be there voice
|
| Do they stand a chance?
|
| Where there’s, more hungry mouths
|
| Then food to eat
|
| Where you find those who
|
| Claim to lead
|
| Because of all there personal greed
|
| They always want more than they need
|
| They don’t help those
|
| Below the Ave
|
| Instead they stand aside and laugh
|
| As if it’s all we’ll ever ask
|
| When will they make a change?
|
| Its like a punk never check
|
| Or dem did forget
|
| Say a death
|
| We nature naughty
|
| Ah true mi go born uptown
|
| Tell dem fools don’t cross me That’s only where Cindy brought me And that’s why they can’t impress me With no boasty car
|
| Me know dat ah kill dem softly
|
| And then they’re not
|
| Really even who they think they are
|
| They’re not really moving crafty
|
| Mi get fi understand
|
| Say them plan dem faulty
|
| Well nuff a dem a twenty
|
| And favor forty
|
| Filthy rich big belly
|
| And hearty
|
| Di real Gideon will
|
| Be arriving shortly
|
| Rasta nuh beat Binghi
|
| Drum we claatt it We live longer
|
| Cause we food nuh salty
|
| We grow stronger
|
| And dem can’t assault we So haile Rastafari love
|
| And exhalt it WRITTEN BY DA |