Time so rough,
And time so tough.
Time so rough.
Coming from the country with my bag of collie,
I walk up on a DC, him want fe hold me.
Don't you run now youthman, you won't get away.
If you slip you will die,
And if you run you can't hide.
For I've got my clip, stuck right in my hip, now.
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you take my ishen!
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you touch my collie!
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
The children crying for hunger and I-man a suffer,
So you've got to see, it's just collie that feeds me.
Fifty cents a stick, and a dollar a quarter,
That's what keeps me alive, me and my two kids and wife.
So give me a chance sir, a make me gwaan little faster,
Just let me pass through, and Jah will bless you.
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you take my ishen!
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you touch my collie!
Now, for the time is so rough, I gotta hustle, yea..
I got the great sensimilla, and the good lambsbread, ya.
A little Dry Pon Stump and a little Goat head, ya.
You dread them waiting in the city,
We go lick it to the gritty.
So please Mister DC, won't you have some pity?
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you take my ishen!
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you touch my collie!
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you touch my ishen!
Whoa-oa-oa DC.
Don't you touch my collie!
No, no, no, no, Mister DC.
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