A big question posed to me daily on the street
Many want to know the reason why
I am a Rastaman

Many people see I, many people ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
Many people see I, many people ask
Why am I a Rastaman?

But it is because of the Babylon and the situation
It's because of the Babylon and the situation

When I was a boy about eight years old
There was a certain Rastaman
And he love all the children
And he treated us like a man
Even the little children that no one cares for
He called up everyone
And he gave us fruit and treated everyone
With a special love

Many people see I, many people ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
But he taught I the love
To give to everyone

Many people see I, many people ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
There is no better way to express my love
To each and everyone

One Saturday morning
A special thing happened to this man
Here come mystery Babylon
He take away the Rastaman
So they root up him herb and them eat of him fruit
And throw it in a van
And straight after that for a trillion years
I never see the Rastaman
They took him to general penitentiary
And them send him back as a baldhead man
But that could not change him, his mind was not in prison
Was only his body, man, oh

Many people see I, many people ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
No matter what the battle be
I still have Jah in my hand

Many people see I, many people ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
How sweet the name of Jah Jah sound
To every righteous Rastaman

And the same old Rastaman
Told me pounds, shillings and tings
Would come out of circulation
And we would use a true bird, man
And I have seen, seven years after that
It was no use man
Donkey, horses and cross keeper
Trodding upon he a penny man, hey

Everyone ah see I, everyone ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
I'm here to prove and to testify
About prophecy

Everyone ah who see I, everyone ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
John the Baptist, Marcus Garvey and Christ
They was a Rastaman

Everyone see I, everyone ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
I vowed the vow of a Nazarite
And I can't be no otherwise man, hey

Everyone see I, everyone ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
I love my brothers and I sisters
And I can not give up a tall man

Brother Brown, brother Chris
Brother Tom, brothers stand, we man
I use to hear them beat the drums and sing
Way in the forest land, hey

Everyone see I, everyone ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
I love the beat of the Nyahbinghi
That calls on creation

Everyone see I, everyone ask I
Why am I a Rastaman?
The truth is an offence is not a sin
You coulda small like a pin

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Collin W. York, Joseph Constantine Hill, Lynford Marshall