I brought you to the house. Hiding pieces of your body all over. I've had better, you too? And you know that's true. Spending your benefits, oh you're so arrogant, but I'm so negligent. You spread your influence. I made meat and stew of you and you know that's true. I made meat and stew of you... I a fugitive. I the register. I a fugitive. I a reggae star.

Hold that up. Hatchet, for me, daughter. Take me my lord. Take me daughter. Hold that up. Hatchet for me daughter.
I'll take you in my car
I'll take you in my car
I'll take you in my car
I'll take you in my

Lyrics submitted by cakewalk

So I Born a Murderer, Don’t Pray On Me My Love: song meanings
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