Black people don't get weary,
Dem tek off the shackles an' face we,
But still we under mental slavery,
Unno sing with the Startrail posse

Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.

Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.

This is my question to Issa and the one Matalon,
How unno get fi own so much black people land.
After dem slave, achieve nutten inna hand,
Check out greater Portmore, Braeton,
One room unno build a sell fi one million.
Dem dey studio house nuh worth a hundred gran,
Thrue mi a lick out dem waa mi keep quiat,
But mi a bun fire fi di one Butch Stewart.
Who buy out di plane an' all di pilot,
Thrue mi nuh inna Jamaica, love fi tan.
Mi haffi bun fire fi the one Naree Azan,
Everybody know how downtown a fi di poor man,
How dem claims it an' sey a to dem it belong,
No more hustling, dat mean no food inna hand,
One help wi have is the Almighty One,
Jamaicans help sing mi song.

Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.

Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.

My Lord, don't talk jus listen,
Mi haffi bun fire fi P.J. Patterson,
Him mek certain move an wi nuh too certain,
How much black youth behind iron curtain.
Thrue mi naw go trod inna Babylon order,
Mi haffi bun fire fi one name Seaga.
Every day cost a living get harder,
Have more seller more than buyer,
Oh my Lord , what a pressure.

Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.

Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.

So many things politician have stolen, Still them return with the one Bruce Golding, Saying a brand new party dem forming, But a part dem a part we with dem politics meeting, Out a politics poor people get them beaten, Look who dem have a tun metropolitan officer, Fi tek yuh hustling out a yuh hand, When yuh look pon dem face a yuh own black man. Well out of the slum di poor people send mi, Fi look what a gwaan and don't disagree, What is the benefit of GCT? It benefit you but it never fit me.
Fire 'pon Rome,
Fi Pope Paul an' him scissors an' comb,
Black people waan go home,
A Mount Zion a di righteous throne.