African Queen

Hey Mr. Music, why don’t you want to sing?
Tell me Mr. Music, what is it that you bring?
I hope you didn’t come with any abominable things
You should know, abomination is a sin
If I blaspheme you JAH, I know I can’t win
If I disrespect an Empress let me never see the King
Let me never be caught sporting the bling bling
Instead give I knowledge and understanding
Just like the great King Solomon on a reggae rhythm
Please JAH, give I the wisdom you gave unto him
Let me spread it to the babe and spread it to the suckling
I promise I will use it to your liking

If the preacher is a teacher, then the church is a School
If you think in your heart there is no God, you’re a fool
JAH sit up in the HEIGHTS, that mean he rules
Africa your enemies shall be your footstool
So tell them keep the forty acres and keep the dirty mule
We want back our continent and all that they stole
We want back the diamond, we want back the gold
We want back our culture, we want back our soul
And if we don’t get that, heads will have to roll
The warriors are ready to play their role
We are sick of your injustice, your taxes and your tolls
So repatriation is the ultimate goal

Am not the preacher nor the preacher man’s son
So you won’t catch me preaching until the preacher man come
But I have to tell the Black youths to stop acting dumb
Stop killing your brothers with Babylon’s gun
See Babylon pretty City falling down
I meant Babylon shitty city falling down
So come warriors let’s go clean up the slum
Come farmers let’s go farm up the ground
Babylon’s fake food is only sweet to the tongue
But it’s bad for the heart, the liver and the lung
There is a time for everything under the sun
But while so many are dying, it’s no time for fun