My people

Everyday I wake, I feel like crying
 Every second I feel like praying
 Everywhere I turn my people dying
 Brothers and sisters now listen what I'm saying

 I don't really feel like writing
 And I don't really feel like singing
 Cause everywhere I look my people fighting
 And it's our own that we're killing

 The same gunmen that cry bout suppression
 Of the white man and his racist oppression
 Go a church and give god his confession
 Gun in his pocket and crack in his possession

 [bad word] hypocrite don't be disillusioned
 yeah life is tough but that's not no solution
 You g'wan like yer brave that's an illusion
 Brave man wouldn't kill his own would start a revolution

 Gunman and too much [bad word] man
 What are we showing
 The youts dem
 We should be protecting
 Instead we're destroying
 Oh father watch over them